


Feathers of Black and White

by KalaKitsune



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Dominant!Lucius, Kinda, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Mpreg Harry, Non-Human Harry, Non-Human Lucius, OCC - Freeform, Underage Harry, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wingfic, a little occ, submissive!harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalaKitsune/pseuds/KalaKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just another thankfully boring summer for Harry, that is until the night of his 16th birthday; now everythings changed, and Harry almost misses boring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recollection

**Author's Note:**

> All Chapters will be beta read by JacklesPenis.

_~A Hopeful End to a Miserable Summer~_

_[Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey; July 30 th 1996, 10:19 PM]_

 

Harry James Potter lay awake on his worn, lumpy twin bed, starring up at the ceiling of Dudley’s old ‘junk’ room; ‘junk’ was used liberally when in reference to Harry’s current sleeping quarters by the Dursleys. His thoughts were scattered, running rampant in his head, as his emerald eyes traced the odd patterns only serious scrutiny and concentration seemed to produce.

 

His summer at the Dursleys was coming to a close, finally.

 

A hand drawn calendar, just a dingy scrap piece of parchment left over from an essay, was tacked to the wall above his head.  The fading numbers were crossed off with big bold red ‘X’s, a stark contrast on the ruddy paper with fading black ink. The marks lead up to one specific day that had its importance marked by a thick red circle.

 

July 31st.

 

Harry turned sixteen in less than three hours.  More importantly, however, Dumbledore had promised that he would be there at 7 o’clock that morning to personally escort him to the Burrow, where the Weasley’s would be expecting him for breakfast. The old wizard was allowing him to spend the duration of his summer there until it was time to start up his sixth year at Hogwarts.

 

Harry didn’t know if it was the excitement or relief that kept him up. His body seemed to thrum with pent up energy, and his muscles would occasionally twitch as if in anticipation of something. What that something was, however, Harry really had no clue.

 

His summer had been really, really dull.  About as dull as the faded and stained wallpaper in his current prison cell, Harry thought smugly.  Actually, he was quite thankful for its dullness, the summer, not the room…

 

Voldemort hadn’t stirred up any more trouble since the ‘Battle at the Ministry’, and this lack of action both worried and comforted him.  The vile man was either seething with anger while stewing over losing the battle, or he was planning yet another horribly elaborate plan to rid himself of one innocuous Harry Potter; the probability of both was too high for his liking.

 

Harry’s fifth year had ended with a bang, literally so.

 

Not only had Voldemort tricked Harry with a fake vision, successfully drawing the Gryffindor to the Ministry of Magic, they all very well almost died there. Even now, Harry could feel the cold chill of Voldemort’s magic as it washed over him in thick suffocating waves as the dark wizard attempted to possess him.  It had taken all of Harry’s control, every last bit of what Snape had tried to teach him during their private Occlumency lessons, and more, to force the stronger wizards’ spirit from his body.  (Harry really needed to thank Snape…)  In the end Voldemort had retreated as soon as Dumbledore arrived.

 

Luckily everyone had come away from the ‘battle’ whole, if not a little worse for wear.  Sirius, who had had a close call with his crazy cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, would have surely died if it hadn’t been for Remus and a quickly cast _Protego_. To top things off, Voldemort, being the flashy bastard he was, exploded the Atrium in a power play and attempt at intimidation when he confronted Harry.  It hadn’t really worked, but Harry had to admit that it was the best part of the whole ordeal, because now that horrible racially offensive statue no longer existed.  Well… not in one piece.

 

Harry didn’t know what he would have done if any of them had died or been seriously injured. The scare with Sirius was enough to send Harry into nightmares; he couldn’t bear to see Cedric and Sirius starring back at him with eyes full of resentment and blame.  It would have been his fault.  It was his fault… He was the one who had fallen for the bait; and even though he knew he could have never stopped them, he was responsible for putting so many of his precious people in danger for nothing.  Thinking of the others had Harry blinking back tears. They were his friends… his family… his life…

 

A knot formed in his chest, and Harry found it hard to breathe. His eyes shuttered closed as he focused on his breathing.  The room was silent except for the sound of his stuttering breath and the chirping of summer crickets drifting through the small crack in his window. He couldn’t lose anyone else; the thought of them not being there because of him made him nauseous.

 

His precious people…

 

A gasp escaped slightly parted lips as an image flashed behind his closed lids.  Snapping his eyes open, Harry started at the ceiling in horror as his face tinted a warm pink in anger at his own thoughts.  That was most definitely not one of his precious people! Just the thought of ‘that’ person made him grit his teeth angrily.  His mind betrayed him, however, as he fell back into the memories of that night at the Ministry, heart stuttering much the same as it had during those first moments of surprised meeting; images of silver eyes and a wicked smile dancing through his thoughts.

 

Harry still couldn’t fathom the strange way Lucius Malfoy had acted during their encounter.  The elder Malfoy hadn’t outright attacked him, or at all for that matter. Actually, when they had come face to face in the Hall of Prophecy, Malfoy had removed his Death Eaters mask, eyes blown wide in what Harry believed to be confusion and disbelief, though he couldn’t understand why.  Harry then watched as the blondes narrow brows drew together and his silver eyes narrowed to two thin semi-intimidating slits of seriousness, never once leaving Harry’s face. Even now, the intense scrutiny still made him shiver.  It was as if Malfoy had seen something he hadn’t expected, or maybe he noticed something about Harry that had gone overlooked up until that crucial point.

 

In truth, Harry hadn’t reacted well in that moment either… He was still rather embarrassed and ashamed of himself really.  To say that his look of confusion, and dare he say, shyness under the scrutiny, was rivaled only by Neville, who was also close enough to the blonde to see the subtle change in manner.  As he had stared back at the unblinking man whose own thoughts seemed to have frozen him in place, Harry recalled glancing at Luna as the girl exclaimed a soft “oh, I see”, which only did to increase his own confusion.  It seemed like the odd little ‘moment’ went own forever, and Harry was only drawn away by Ron’s alarmed exclamation and a shrill cackle. Bellatrix Lestrange slid coolly up to Lucius’s side baiting them with words that made near to no sense. One glance back at the Malfoy proved that the moment was over; it was all business from there.

 

Then they had fought… well… it wasn’t really much of a fight, as he and his friends tried to escape the numerous Death Eaters that had appeared from the darkness during Malfoy’s attempt at retrieving the prophecy by using diplomacy.

 

As he ran, Harry tried to shake the little voice in the back of his mind that whispered about being caught in the large, long-fingered hands of one blonde and very arrogant Death Eater and how it might not be so bad. He didn’t know whose thoughts they were, because surely they weren’t his own.  He’d never thought of another person, especially a man, and one so much older than himself, in such a way.  He was a fifteen-year-old boy with plenty of world experience, but none he could file under the tag of ‘intimate’ or ‘romantic’.

 

And perhaps it was the darkness, a trick of shadows, but Harry could have sworn he saw a hint of pleading and regret in those silver eyes as the man had tried once again with negotiation when they were surrounded in the room with the veiled archway.  The pure look of pain that flashed across the man’s face lasted no more than a second, but Harry had seen it and felt a shiver travel up his spine.  Malfoy didn’t want to hurt him, and that thought above all others baffled him.  He wasn’t given much time to think on why Lucius Malfoy, right hand man of Lord Voldemort himself, found it so hard to resort to violence when the man had been so unpleasant in all of their previous encounters, because the battle began in full swing on the arrival of the Order.

 

Everything had turned to chaos.  Spells flew in every direction, and curses were hurled liberally. It was hard to tell friend from foe; the only indication being the swirl of pearl white or black mist that surrounded a wizard as they apparate around the room.  Then, as if in slow motion, he saw a flash of green from the corner of his eye, but it was too late to do anything.  Harry felt his heart stutter to a stop as his own death hurtled towards him.

 

Things speed up again as someone shoved Harry down and out of the way, the stray curse blazing past to make contact with a sturdy stone pillar. Looking up he froze. It was the sharp Malfoy features he saw and cold grey eyes that stared down at him with an unreadable expression. And as Lucius rose his wand, harry had the sinking feeling that the man only saved him so that he could kill him personally, but the look in those pale eyes stopped that thought. Warmness washed over him, and then the elder Malfoy was gone, apparating away in a swirl of black and grey, soon again lost in the fray.

 

It was now Harry assumed, ‘safely’ tucked away at the Dursleys, that Mr. Malfoy had cast a protection spell.  Harry didn’t know why the blonde had chosen to save him, even going so far as protecting him with a fairly intricate wordless protection spell, and a part of him (much larger than he would like to admit) wanted to know why. Lucius Malfoy had always been something of a neutral for Harry.  Every time they had met the man either insulted whomever Harry was with, or he had made quite a few snide remarks about Harry himself.  Perhaps it was better to say it like this: Draco Malfoy was his nemesis, his rival, and the hate for the son bled into the hate for the father long before he’d ever met the man; Lucius Malfoy was also one of the closest supporters of Voldemort, his arch enemy.  It was something that he had been told he should do, that his feelings towards the Malfoys should remain negative.  Hating him had always been something so easy, like breathing, but now…

 

But now… something had changed.  Harry didn’t know what it was, when exactly it had started or even how it had started, but something had most definitely began to change.  As to the nature of this change… he had yet to draw up the nerve to confront or diagnose it.

 

Without any warning, a sharp pain lanced up Harry’s spine spreading what felt like fire in its wake, cutting through his troubled thoughts like a hot blade. All coherent thought was gone as the pain coursed throughout his body in waves.  He was burning and being electrocuted at the same time. The room was too small. There was no air; it was the only thought his mind could wrap around, as his lungs seemed to struggle to keep working. It was as if someone had doused him in gasoline and set him ablaze, trying their hand at a human molotov cocktail, before throwing him onto a nest of live wires.  Not that he’d ever felt those things before, but both sounded extremely painful…

 

Gasping for breath that he couldn’t seem to catch, and writhing in a bed that now seemed far too big, Harry blinked back tears as his throat constricted on an almost scream.  As the pain grew, the room shrank, and the heat rose.  Harrys last thought before he blacked out, between the occasional ‘I’m going to die like this, after so much, I’m going to die in Dud’s old room’ and ‘Lucius Fucking Malfoy’, was one of the oddest he may have ever had, and sadly enough, he probably would fail to remember it.

 

_‘Save me… I don’t want to die yet… Lucius…’_

 

A whispering sigh escaped Harry’s lips as his eyes drifted shut, carrying a name that had anyone that knew him heard it he would deny it ever being said.

 

“Lucius…”

 

~ To Be Continued ~


	2. Unrest, Part 1

_~ Thick in the Summer Air Like Acrid Smoke~_

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; July 30 th 1996, 11:29 PM]_

Lucius Malfoy sat staring into the blazing flames dancing in the hearth of his study, a snifter of brandy held loosely in his right hand. The liquor did little to settle his troubled thoughts.  His mind reeled as he recalled the disaster that had been the ‘Battle at the Ministry’, for what was possibly the hundredth time since the incident.  He, for the life of him, could not understand what had come over him when he had first laid eyes on the green-eyed teen during their brief encounter in the Hall of Prophecies.  Then to make matters worse, he had saved the boy.

 

Potter was the enemy…

 

 _Potter was ‘his’ enemy_ , his mind corrected.

 

Lucius brought the snifter back to his lips, draining it of its remaining contents and setting it aside before rising to his feet from the plush leather chair he had been sitting in.

 

He had worked too hard for things to break apart now.  Voldemort was convinced of his allegiance as he should be, and Lucius wouldn’t let a mere _human_ —a sneer curled his lips in slight disgust at the word—boy ruin what he had worked so hard to obtain.  What good would he be to his people if he were found out?  Nothing, no good at all; he’d be just a hindrance and nothing more, if not dead for his supposed treachery.  They needed him on the inside, just as they needed Severus planted deeply in with Dumbledore; something Lucius could never manage, being unable to overcome his distaste for the old man.

 

Yet 'it'  **had**  happened.

 

He could have been caught helping the boy. His lapse in judgment could have ruined everything he had worked for. It could have ruined everything  _they_ had worked for. All their plans, everything, could have been so easily destroyed. Only now, after the battle, did he see the error of his ways.

 

 _No error_ , a small voice in his mind rebelled, but he ignored it.

 

Potter hadn't even seen the particularly nasty death spell speeding in his direction until it was too late, and before even thinking on his actions, Lucius had knocked the boy out of the way. No one had noticed; no one but Potter, that is… And then, in what he refused to believe was more than just an act of pity, he had cast a silent spell of protection on the boy. By the Saints of Avalon, what had come over him!?

 

 _You know_ , the tiny voice replied, and this, Lucius found, he could not ignore; because yes, he did indeed know.

 

When he had found the boy in the Hall of Prophecy, it was as if all the air had escaped his lungs only to be replaced by the spicy scent of the green-eyed nuisance. Lucius had been too stunned, by the barely suppressed thrum of excitement in his veins, to even begin to try and speak. The overpowering attraction and want he had felt at that moment when their eyes meet and locked was something foreign to him. It was almost like being spellbound, staring at the boy who stared back with those bottle green eyes of his. He'd never desired another creature nearly as much as he desired the ebony haired teen in that moment. It was unfounded, really; he now rationalized. But was it really?

 

 _You know, but you are afraid to admit it_ , that tiny little voice whispered, and he frowned as he made his way towards the sturdy oak door.

 

It was impossible really… There was no way that Potter, even if he was  _a Potter_ , could be of his kind. The boy had been born bare of any divine blood; the curse of a human mother, Lucius was sure. The Potters had been known for their strong bloodline, but it wasn't strong enough for the late Lord James Potter and his human peasant wife to produce an heir worthy of the Potter line. Such a disappointment, Lucius thought. The Potter brat was no more than human, just like his mother.

 

But still, there was a moment… His blood had been heated, and his feral side was almost exposed before the small group of children; he had almost growled out his dominance and proven to the young Potter who he belonged to. As absurd as the thought was, the echo of 'mine' still rang within the dark confines of his mind.

 

Deny as he might, and he would, Lucius couldn't fight the pleased feeling the single word paired with the image of emerald green eyes and an unruly mop of black hair brought to him.

 

A human… He had never, and would never want a human. So with that thought in mind, he fought valiantly against the part of him that desired the boy and whispered the word 'mine'. Harry Potter, half-blood in all forms of the word, would never be and could never be his.

 

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Lucius left his study in search of his bed, in hopes of sleep that Potter did not intrude upon, which rarely happened these last few days. He yet again tried to convince himself that his desire for Potter was unfounded, and his presumed detestation of the boy did little to keep those thoughts at bay.

 

He couldn't afford these thoughts… these feelings… Too much relied upon him for him to throw it all away for a human…  _that_  human…

 

Walking down the corridor to his room he hadn't expected to run into Narcissa, who was also in the process of entering her own room. A faint wave of guilt washed over him as she turned to look at him with weary sky blue eyes and offered him a small soft smile. He'd taken so much from her already, and here he was thinking of someone like Potter… a human, none the less… Yes, maybe he and Narcissa were more friends than lovers, but the guilt of thinking of someone in a way he could never think of her lay heavy in his heart.

 

Oh how easy it would be to just accept her, but he could only push her away. She was beauty and grace, the perfect example of  _his people_. But she wasn't enough. She wasn't his, and he would never be hers. They shared a common bond of friendship and a son, but Lucius would never be able to fully accept her as mate and life partner. The only thing that eased the guilt was that she was the same. It pained him to see her suffer, for she had already found the person she most wished to spend her life, and it was not him. As long as she remained with Lucius she would never be free to love the man her heart desired. Yes, he felt guilt, and she knew. Their years together had taught her how to read him well, not completely, but better than any other.

 

"Lucius?" Her smile was gone now, and her eyes widened a fraction in worry. Dear sweet and caring creature that she was, she could always tell when he was troubled, and he had been worrying her far too much for several days now.

 

"I am well." He spoke lies through a softly smiling mouth, knowing that she would not believe them, but she also would not challenge his word. He couldn't tell her what was bothering him, just as she never spoke a word of her own heartache. "Good night to you, lady wife," he continued smoothly, placing a gentle and chaste kiss on her forehead before turning to continue his trek down the long corridor to his own private chambers.

 

But his steps faltered, and his body went rigid. He couldn't breathe, and he barely heard Narcissa's worried voice over the thrum of a heartbeat awakened in his ears. It was fast, beating rapidly, and he knew without a doubt that it was not his own. His own name echoed as a whispered plea in his ears, and it was not Narcissa that spoke it. There was a faint muffled sound of ripping cloth, but it was the sound of Narcissa's soft gasp of surprise that drew his liquid silver eyes to her, and he came back to himself almost instantly as the voice wavered and faded away.

 

"Lucius… your-your wings…!"

 

And sure enough, his shirt was ripped to severely too be called such, and two pure white feathered wings smeared with crimson now cast a haunting angelic silhouette upon the floor. There was blood, but he felt no pain, the transformation being something he'd gone through on several occasions before. He was no longer himself, or rather he was himself but he no longer wielded the human disguise that his kind were known to take during these hard times.

 

Like an elf from the old religion he stood tall and sinewy, pure hard muscle and lithe frame, with sharp tipped ears and long glistening platinum almost white hair now adorned with the stray pure white of feathers tipped with gold. His liquid silver eyes blazed like smelted metal, the color seeming to almost shift as his pupil elongated to resemble that similar to a cats.

 

Lucius couldn't speak; the thump of another's heartbeat still beat faintly in his ears. He allowed his eyes to drift closed as he focused on that heartbeat alone, a sigh slipping past his lips.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

He was a sight to behold, all male, dominate and imposing. To see him with his wings flared, no longer in the guise of a human, Narcissa felt her heart skip a beat. This was the man that she had sworn fealty, as had many others. This was the man she accepted as her husband, and she loved him, just not in a way that soothed her heart. He was the father of her child; he was the man she respected above all others, but he was so much more.

 

"My Lord," Narcissa murmured, reaching out a tentative hand. His molten gaze didn't even waver from where he currently stared ahead, almost as if he could see and hear things that she could not, and she didn't doubt that as being true. Drawing back her hand, she watched as his eyes slipped closed with a soft breathy sigh, before he began to breathe deeply as if in great concentration.

 

Nothing she said or did could reach him now. Something was going on, something that only he was aware of, and all she could do was wait, wait and hope he confided in her.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

Hermione Granger had just climbed the steps onto the Night Bus and given Stan the address to the Burrow when the feeling of something being horribly wrong washed over her. It was so strong it almost caused her to lose her footing, and she only managed to keep upright by gripping the handrail tightly. When Stan helped her up the rest of the steps while asking her if she was okay, she responded kindly enough that she was fine while shrugging off his hand and changing her destination address to that of Privet Drive.

 

She had been having 'premonitions', for lack of a better word, lately. Hermione didn't put much stock in 'the way of the seer', but something had been bothering her since the end of the last school year. Something was going to happen; her mind was full of those feelings, omens of impending doom. Something wasn't right and something told her that Harry, her dearest and closest friend, was to be at the center of it all.

 

The feeling of dread and crushing sadness had made her mind up for her when she had climbed onto the Night Bus. What could it hurt, really? If she went to Privet Drive and found Harry perfectly safe and fine then she could put it to her worrying too much. But what if Harry really were in trouble? She had a gut feeling that he was and that he needed her. What kind of best friend would she be if she disregarded that feeling only to find out later that something  _had_  happened, something that she could have possibly prevented if she had only listened to her instincts?

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

Lucius had disregarded Narcissa's panicked questions as he prepared to leave the manor. His shirt, useless to him now, lay at his feet as he stood in the foyer wiping the last bit of blood from his wings. His eyes fixed on the dark star riddled skies that were clearly visible through the open front door. It was a clear night, a good night for flying.

 

"Call Severus," he commanded in a stern voice. He was in full winged-lord mode, earning a nod from his stunned wife. It had been so long since she had seen him like this; so very long since he had fallen into his role as a winged-lord of their kind.

 

"Of course," Narcissa breathed and turned watery blue eyes on her son who had just entered the foyer still half-a-sleep with a startled look of confusion on his face from seeing his father in such a state.

 

"Where are you going father? What is wrong?!" Draco asked softly, but Lucius heard and turned his steely eyes upon his son who resembled him in so many ways.

 

"When my people need me, when they call for me, I will go to them." Lucius said in way of explanation, but knew that Draco didn't really understand. The boy was still so young, and there was so much about his own kind that he did not know.

 

Exiting the house, Lucius didn't even glance back as he took to the skies, large wings spreading and beating fiercely. He still had enough mind to cast a concealment spell on himself as he flew, following the pull of the heartbeat still keeping a dramatic tempo in his head. As a winged-lord, it was his duty to protect and govern his people, so when one was under extreme duress he would know; although, this usually only applied to those closest to him. This was not just one of his people, he knew. This pull, this feeling of dread and agony, it was so much more than the pull of the divine blood of his brethren.

 

The Saints, they were laughing at him, taunting him, he was certain. All his life, his long and horribly bare empty life, he had gone feeling half complete. If he were correct, the creature in distress would fill up that void deep within his chest. So clearly, it was ironic. He would finally find his life mate, but be denied them by whatever made their heart flutter like that of a frightened animal. If he were correct in his assumptions and he were too late… If he could not reach them before their heart ceased to beat within his mind, he would forever suffer the condition of being only half of a whole.

_~To Be Continued~_


	3. Dissolution

_~I Know Who Killed Me~_

 

_[Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey; July 31st 1996, 3:00 AM]_

 

Harry seemed to awaken with a new alertness. His whole body was rigid as his nerves tingled from the pain that still ghosted across his flesh. He knew better than to think that excruciating pain was just a dream. The thrum of it echoed through him as he attempted a sitting position on the twisted mess of damp sheets and mussed bedding, finally managing this on the third try.

 

He was short of breath and shivering from the cold sweat that dusted his skin and soaked his clothes. It took him a second later to realize that the room was blurry, although his glasses still sat crookedly on his face.

 

With a shaky hand, Harry reached up and removed the glasses and gasped in surprise as the room came into focus. He'd never seen things this clearly before, even when the glasses were new(ish). The faint glow of twilight caught his attention as a breeze blew through his open window. Shivering lightly he slowly got to his feet and stumbled dazedly towards the open pane, the metal bars shinning in the dim light of the moon. He didn't need a clock to know it was barely the wee hours of the morning, and as the sounds of night floated to him on the cool summer breeze the pain eased away. Harry leaned forward against the sill and gazed through the bars at the very beginnings of what would be a beautiful day.

 

Had he left the window open last night? He thought slowly, eyes staring at the sky with innocent wonder.

 

No, his mind supplied.

 

Before panic or confusion could set in, another breeze slipped through the open window chilling his back, which felt excessively damp and bare. Most of the pain he still felt seemed to originate from right between his shoulder blades.

 

Turning from the window, Harry went to the severely cracked full body mirror that had once belonged to Aunt Petunia. Twisting his torso the slightest bit to avoid causing any more aches to awaken, he gaped at the new appendages that had seemingly sprouted overnight.

 

Two wings jutted awkwardly from his upper back at his shoulder blades. They were black and slick with what Harry knew had to be drying blood. They fluttered slightly and twitched as he continued his scrutiny, the feathers ruffling and spiking because of the sticky blood.

 

"No wonder I hurt like hell… and itch!" Harry mumbled with a grimace, his sleep addled mind was too worried about how you go about cleaning blood covered wings instead of wondering how those blood covered wings came to be. He reached back to capture a slightly extended wing but released it as his fingers made contact with the still tender appendage.

 

In his scrutiny of the new addition to his body, Harry had missed the other changes he had undergone until he looked at the mirror again, mouth opening as if to say something in attempts to reduce the building confusion he felt. He no longer looked like himself. Well, he looked similar, but he no longer looked like the Harry James Potter he had been.

 

Large and bright emerald eyes stared back at him, seeming to glow with a silent intensity and power he had never known he possessed. The color in them seemed to shift and swirl around the newly elongated pupil, reminding Harry of a cat. His face, girlish in ways such as the long glossy eye lashes and smooth features, now held a more mature edge yet still softly innocent. His hair was the same unruly black, now a bit longer and shaggier, and he seemed to have grown an inch, putting him around the exciting height of 5'6". He had filled out a bit, more lean than skinny, but his shoulders and waist were still just as narrow. The slight flair of his hips was new, and Harry couldn't help but feel disappointed overall at how feminine he now appeared. He wasn't a girl, and one could tell that from looking at him; he had been striving for manly, but that plan was now a fail and his new androgynous look miffed him a bit.

 

Reaching forward, fingertips a mere inch away from the smooth surface, Harry was just about to touch his reflection when the mirror shattered. The shards burst outward, sending slivers of glass flying away from its backing. Harry shielded his face as best as he could with his arms as he let out a surprised yelp. The Dursley's were sure to have heard it, but there was no yelling of "BOY" only a dry chuckle from behind him.

 

"Potter, Potter, Potter," a voice so familiar, yet not, chided. "You vain creature, you. You go through a few changes, and you start gazing at yourself with such adoration."

 

Harry spun around; arms dropping form his face, as he took up a defensive stance, his wand sadly out of reach. Catching sight of the speakers face Harrys eyes widened in shock and confusion. The 'thing' took advantage of this and lunged forward catching Harry's throat in a surprisingly strong grip.

 

"You…" Harry could barely get the word out as the 'thing' held his throat in a vice grip. Harry struggled futilely against the hand, while trying to breathe as his feet dangled inches from the floor. This 'thing', whatever it was, whoever it was, was obscenely strong.

 

"Me," the 'thing' said with a wicked smile, dark green eyes mocking Harry's struggles. Harry stared back into those eyes that seemed so close to his own it was horrifying and wasn't afraid to admit that he felt more than a bit of terror as the thing dangled him a foot from the ground as if he weighed nothing. The 'thing' had his face, or at least the face he had had before the horrible pain and who-knows-how-many-hours-blackout. Its eyes were a bit darker than his had been, and its forehead lacked the trademark lightning bolt scar that people usually recognized him by.

 

"What-… are-… you…?" Harry gasped out with much difficulty.

 

"I'm you, since you can longer be yourself." The things mouth smirked wickedly, in a way Harry was sure he had never been able to achieve; it was a truly evil smile, void of any pure happiness or goodwill. "You see, you are expendable, and I am your new replacement." The 'thing' released him finally, allowing him to crumple to the floor in a gasping heap before it delivered a swift kick to his side and reached down to grasp a handful of feathers. Harry screamed in pure agony as the 'thing' jerked forcefully and feathers were thrown across the room.

 

It felt like hours of this torture went on before the 'thing' was finally satisfied with Harry's now mangled wings and his broken bloody shivering form. Briefly, while suffering the blows one after another, he wondered why no one had come. Surely the Dursleys had heard his screams and cries for help and came to yell at him, but no. He knew he had screamed loud enough for the neighbors to hear even. No one had come, no one had saved him, and now he lay a crumpled heap at the 'things' feet. He somewhat recalled the 'thing' telling him to scream for help all he wanted because no one would hear, and now he wondered if there was a silencing charm of some kind cast upon the room. All of this, however, seemed so insignificant now as he curled in on himself, the pain seeming several times worse than that he had experienced only hours ago. How much pain could the body take before it gave up? He didn't know, but he felt that he was likely to find out soon enough.

 

"I never liked your 'kind', always so uppity with your damned wings and damned beauty. You were perfect in your world, but perfection gets you nothing here." He heard the 'thing', Un-Harry, whisper somewhere near his left ear. "Now, I'll need this before you go." Harry registered confusion at the Un-Harry's words. What did he have that the creature could possibly need?

 

As if in answer to his silent question cool fingertips pressed against his forehead where the scar was located, and then there was a tingling sensation before the fingers were withdrawn.

 

"And you won't need this anymore either." Un-Harry gave a laugh before moving away from his broken form. Harry watched through bloody and swollen eyes as it retrieved his wand from under his pillow before turning to grin down at him.

 

As it lifted his wand, Harry faintly noticed that it was no longer missing the scar…

 

"Goodbye, Mister Potter. Have a safe trip to hell."

 

~To Be Continued~


	4. Unrest, Part 2

_~ The Pungent Scent of Death and Decay Pervaded the Air, Suffocating the Life Held Within~_

 

_[Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey; July 31st 1996, 3:31 AM]_

 

Hermione descended the last of the Night Bus's steps, feet meeting a cleanly swept street, worrying her lower lip as she looked at the darkened face of Number Four.

 

"You sure you're good getting off here?" Stan asked her softly, unsure. Hermione turned to look back at the young man who looked highly uneasy, almost as if he had more to say. There was an edge to the night air, a dark cloud that seemed to loom over the little two story cookie cutter house. She understood his uneasiness and resistance to just leave her here. To put it lightly, the whole scene before her looked foreboding.

 

"Yes, thank you," Hermione replied just as quietly giving Stan a small smile of reassurance, possibly more for her own benefit, before turning away and taking the first step and then another. As she reached the slight step leading to the dark door, a gold '4' catching the streetlight, she heard the night bus slowly slip away.

 

"No turning back now, Hermione," she murmured to herself as she ascended the few steps and lifted a hand to give the door a firm knock. Drawing upon all her Gryffindor courage, she rapped her knuckles briskly against the wood and waited, breath held, for any sign of her knock being acknowledged. She sent up a little prayer that maybe it would be Harry, but as her ears picked up the loud lumbering of someone much bigger than her slight friend, she knew she would have no such luck.

 

Loud muttering came from the other side of the door, along with muffled curses that Hermione wasn't going to even strain her ears to understand. She did catch the words  _'what's a bleedin' girl doing here at this time a mornin''_ followed by the sound of the door being unlocked. The door was thrown open to reveal a rather large man in nothing but a hideous mint green night gown, that barely reached past his knees hugging too tightly to his rotund figure, with matching night cap.

 

"What do you want girl!? It's 3:30 in the mornin'! What could you possibly want at this hour!? If you're one of that  _Boy's_ friends…" the man demanded in a harsh tone, trailing off at the end of the sentence. Hermione recoiled as the man spoke. Now that the door was open she didn't know how she was going to convince the man, who she presumed was Harry's uncle, to let her in to see Harry; especially it being so early in the morning.

 

"Is-Is Harry in?" Hermione asked slowly, steeling her nerves. The man's face tinted a bit purple as her words sank in.

 

"You  _are_  here to see  _that_   _Boy!_ " His beady eyes narrowed angrily as he glared down at her.

 

"Please sir, it's urgent!" Hermione cut in before he could start yelling again. "Something is going on, something terrible is about to happen, and I just need to see if he's okay!"

 

Her plea must have fell on deaf ears, because the man was in the process of slamming the door in her face. "Don't come back here again, you little tart!"

 

"Wait!" Without even thinking much on her actions she pushed forward, throwing all of her weight into the action, shoving the man back. The door now hung wide open as the man stumbled backwards before tripping and landing on his rather fat ass. Hermione darted into the house, no idea as to where to look for Harry but determined to find him.

 

"Hey! You stop right there!" The man yelled after her trying to get himself up off the floor.

 

Something was horribly wrong! Her mind screeched in alarm as her gut clenched in panic. Something was most definitely horribly wrong!

 

Running up the stairs, Hermione let her instincts guide her to the room she was sure was Harrys. On her way to her destination, she ran past a thin horse faced woman who gave her a startled confused look.

 

When she reached the door of Harrys room she grabbed the doorknob only to find it locked. She rattled the handle frantically, tears welling in her eyes. "Harry! Harry! Open the door, Harry!" she whimpered as she struggled with the door. And then, almost as if it were magic, the door clicked, and the handle moved within her grasp.

 

She was in the room in a matter of seconds, and the sight that greeted her upon entry had her heart in her throat.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Somewhere in England]_

 

Lucius followed the heartbeat, letting himself be pulled by a mate he never knew existed, never thought would exist. His eyes searched the landscape below as he passed, noticing that he was getting into the denser urban areas but unsure of where exactly he was and where exactly he would end up.

 

His wings beat harder, pushing him faster through the chilled night air as the heart beat faltered and fluttered dangerously.

 

"Hold on, hold on for me! Just hold on a little longer. I will save you, little mate." He murmured.

 

There was a pulse of warmth in his chest before it was beat out by an icy chill. Lucius almost lost pace as the heat spread through him from his very core to the tips of his fingers, only to be followed by the biting cold. His words had reached them; they had felt him, they had responded, but then they had given up hope. Lucius couldn't have that. He couldn't lose the very thing that kept him from being the man he was destined to be. His other half—his better half—was lying somewhere in the dark, dying. Could he live his life now, after having felt them, after knowing that they existed? Could he live with himself if he were too late to save his redemption, his heart?

 

The answer, yes. But it wouldn't be living; it would be even less of a life than what he already had. He suffered daily, hindered by his muted emotions, never truly happy or content. He would live for his people, people who would come to hate him for his lack of understanding and compassion.

 

Lucius was a cursed man, always had been. The key, the very cure for this curse was the one thing he was coming so close to losing.

 

"Hold on a little longer, little mate. I'm coming for you."

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Back at Number 4]_

 

Harry refused to look at Un-Harry as the 'thing' pointed his own wand at him.

 

He closed his eyes tightly, cringing against the pain coursing through his body. His mind was racing. He was panicky and scarred. He was going to die.

 

' _Hold on, hold on for me! Just hold on a little longer. I_ will  _save you, little mate.'_

 

It was a whisper, nothing solid, just the ghost of words flitting through his mind. Yet, just those words eased his panic and sparked a tiny glow of hope in his heart. The deep rumble of a whisper warmed him, and the words  _'little mate'_ , though confusing, brought him a sense of comfort he never thought he would feel, especially in his current situation.

 

It's just a final comfort, Harrys mind supplied. A hallucination to ease the pain and useless hope that you aren't going to die by the hands of someone that looks just like you, using your own wand, nonetheless.

 

' _Hold on a little longer, little mate. I'm coming for you.'_

 

The dark whisper swept through his mind again, pushing away his doubts. Perhaps someone really did intend to save him… Sadly, they wouldn't make it. And Harry feared for them even if they did.

 

A sound coming from the hallway drew him from his thoughts, and to his surprise the door was thrown wide, although he couldn't see who it was.

 

"Wait!" Harry recognized that voice. Even though he couldn't see her, he knew that Hermione was there, and all he wanted to do was warn her away.

 

"HARRY! What are you doing!? Who is that on the floor?!" Hermione breathed out, her face flushed.

 

"Hermione… Why are you here?" the 'thing', the un-Harry, said, its eyes traveling over the disheveled girl that had just burst through the doorway. It rolled her name on its tongue like it was the most beautiful thing it had ever heard or spoken.

 

"I had this horrible feeling, and I took the night bus here as soon as I was able, instead of heading to the Weasleys. Are you alright? Harry?" Hermione spoke, her words rushed, but then she stopped speaking as she noticed the odd look 'Harry' was giving her.

 

"I'm fine… Just getting rid of some  _unnecessary_ trash..." It spoke with a warm smile, its eyes never leaving the girls face.

 

"You… you aren't Harry…" Hermione finally spoke, her eyes widening with disbelief, confusion and worry. Her eyes fell on the crumpled form on the floor, beaten almost beyond recognition. "Harry…" she whispered, eyes welling with panicked tears.

 

"Hermione… run…" Harry managed to gasp out as he choked on his own blood, but it was too late.

 

The creature lunged forward and sank its teeth into the juncture between Hermione's right shoulder and her neck, causing the girl to take in a sharp breath from the pain and surprise, before it withdrew with a smirk.

 

"You're mine now, 'Mione," it breathed in her ear as it withdrew.

 

Suddenly the bars covering the window were wrenched away by an unknown force, startling all three occupants of the room as an overwhelming power washed over them. Before any had time to register the shock, a tall figure entered through the gaping window. He stood before them like an avenging angel, white wings flaring at the stifling scent of dark magic in the room.

 

~To Be Continued~


	5. Anodyne

_~Comfort within the Wings of My Angel~_

 

_[Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey; July 31st 1996, 3:46 AM]_

 

Sharp silver eyes took in the three occupants of the room with a single calculating and wary glance. Lucius understood immediately, or for the most part, what had taken place. There stood Potter, wand drawn, standing defensively, unsure if he should attack Lucius or flee for his life. Lucius scented death, the decaying of leaves and earth; it clung to the boy refusing to release him from its oppressive odor. It took him no more than a single look to realize that that was not the same boy who had been haunting his every waking hour and tormenting his dreams. This 'Harry' was solid and bitter, hate and deceit, nothing like the innocence that had drawn Lucius in and twisted his numbed down feelings.

 

He paid little mind to the sniveling Granger girl. She stood very close to the open door, her face streaked with freshly shed tears now frozen with shocked surprise and awe. He sensed no danger from her and assumed she were here for reasons similar to his own. He had taken note of the closeness of Potter and Granger, and it was fully possible that their friendship wielded a bond far stronger than any he had come in contact with for quite some time.

 

Lucius's blood ran cold as his eyes settled on the floor before him. On the floor to Lucius's right lay a crumpled form, very still but alive. The sight of the broken creature made Lucius's blood boil with barely concealed rage. His nature as a protector urged him to collect the fallen boy and eliminate the aggressor. And yes, it was a boy; his mate was a mere child. The thought didn't disturb him nearly as much as it would have had it occurred early on that year.

 

The scent of blood and the unique spicy tang of Harry,  _his_  Harry, assailed his senses. The scent of death that hung to the Harry imposter could not smother out the traces of Harry that made his mind flare with even more understanding. Harry Potter was more than just a half-breed born of a human mother and divine father. How this could be, Lucius was not sure. One thing he knew for certain: the green eyed menace that had haunted his every thought and dream had well reason to be there. Harry Potter was Lucius' mate. Lucius set aside this train of thought so better to assess the situation. His first priority was to get his mate to safety, and he supposed this also applied to his mates' best friend, though he could have gone without the extra distraction.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

Un-Harry coiled back with an angry hiss as he recovered from the shock of the 'angels' arrival. Things were most certainly not going as planned. Dealing with Hermione was easy enough to get around, a well-placed bite and she was as good as his puppet. But this, this was something that he could not handle. He was nowhere near powerful enough to go head to head with a winged-lord.

 

Glancing hastily down at the unmoving soon to be corpse of Harry Potter, Un-Harry let a small smirk play across his lips. No matter. His job had been done. Harry Potter would not live through the night, the damage dealt to him was too great for a body to handle, even that of a winged-freak.

 

"Tonight isn't my lucky night," Un-Harry pouted, a put upon look settling over his features. He didn't really know how he was going to get away from the winged-lord unscathed, but it was best to bide his time. Of course it was a winged-lord's job to protect their people, but Un-Harry hadn't expected one to show up during his torture of a well hidden winged-citizen. To his knowledge, no one knew that Potter had been of the winged folk, no one except his master, that is. But here was a possibly high ranking winged-lord, staring him down with blazing silver eyes, wings spread in obvious hostility.

 

A low snarl came from the enraged creature, and Un-Harry was immediately aware that there would be no biding of time or talking his way out of this one. A long-fingered hand flew up in his direction, releasing a powerful force that hit him in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards. He had expected a following blow, but it never came.

 

As his vision cleared, Un-Harry saw the man kneel beside the Potter-that-was before gently drawing him to his chest with strong protective arms. It was obvious that he was not on the top of the creatures list of priorities. And as if hearing his thoughts, the man turned to glare down at the still disoriented fake.

 

"You'll regret the day you laid a finger on something that belongs to me…  _Harry Potter_." Un-Harry fought the urge to cringe as the man spoke the words in a deep voice, his 'name' filled with venom and promise. Without even another glance in his direction, the winged man took a step towards Hermione, who was still silenced from shock, taking hold of her arm in a strong grip before the three of them disappeared with a soft pop in a swirl of black and smoky grey.

 

A look of understanding crossed Un-Harry's face. It was something truly unforeseen and unplanned. He even doubted his master knew. 'Harry Potter' had been  _dear_  to the winged-lord, it would seem. If not so, then the man would have probably tended to Un-Harry then and there instead of making the injured young man his first priority. Anyone could see that the life was quickly leaving the broken boy, but the man had still chosen the slight chance of life than immediate retaliation.

 

Great… he had a big guy gunning for him now…

 

Needless to say, his master would not be pleased…

 

Hermione was gone as well… although the thought didn't concern him near as much as the others. Her 'love' for him would manifest over a bit of time, and he could wait, if the man-bird didn't kill him before his master could…

 

"BOY!"

 

Great… just great…

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; July 31st 1996, 3:50 AM]_

 

Lucius arrived in the foyer of Malfoy Manor with a loud crack that echoed through the manor, alerting the three occupants of the sitting room of his arrival. He pushed Granger towards his frantic wife and brooding friend barely noting his sons presence as well. "Tend to her. She was bitten on the neck by something rather vile." Without further word or instruction, he turned on his heel, the broken body of his mate still held protectively to his chest, and made his way up the stairs and out of sight of their inquisitive eyes.

 

Once to his own private chambers, Lucius lay his precious burden carefully on his large ornate bed before trying to discern what damage needed his immediate attention. The heartbeat in his head stammered and fluttered in such a weak irregular pattern his own heart felt as if it were being gripped and squeezed inside his chest.

 

Broken wings and bloody features, Harry looked irreparable. But Lucius couldn't lose this, whatever this was. His heart ached, and it was such an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling. With concentration mastered over years and years of living in this world not meant for his kind, he set to the task of fixing this broken doll.

 

"I can't lose you now that I have you… Do you hear me…? You can't give up on yourself, not when I have you here with me now." Lucius's words were strained and even carried a bit of pain. "More than anything, I need to hear you… I want you to say my name and smile that little smile I've seen you give your friends… Run my fingers through the black silk of your hair, and lose myself in your fathomless bright green eyes… You are a nuisance, filling my mind with thoughts of you, only to leave me when I can finally hold onto you…"

 

Lucius stared down at the broken body slowly beginning to mend as he sent pulses of his own life-force and power into the smaller frame, his hands emitting an eerie blue glow. As all the outer damage repaired itself and faded away, leaving nothing behind but a trace of blood to mark its existence, Lucius concentrated on the heartbeat in his head. It was still weak, seemed to be growing fainter, but still he refused to give up his last hope. Harry Potter would save him, he was sure of this, but first he had to keep his better half holding on to that last bit of life.

 

Will power blazing, engulfing his hands in that eerie tangible power, Lucius focused more on fixing the things he could not see. Voice rough with strain he murmured to the still, still form under his hands. "You're mine, Harry Potter… Mine to have… Mine to hold… Mine in every form of the word, and I refuse to give you up, to even Death himself! Do you hear me!? I won't let you die!"

 

~To Be Continued~


	6. Sleeper

_~Foresight or Fantasy~_

 

It's all just a dream…

 

Everything is just a dream…

 

Harry looked around the swirling mists, wondering where he was, seeing nothing in what appeared to be a shifting mass of foggy oblivion.

 

' _I'm so empty',_ he thought, eyes searching the shifting grey mists that reminded him very much of the memories swirling in a pensive.

 

Pain still radiated throughout his body from the beating he had received; even here he was unable to escape the uncomfortable reminder that he was attacked by what appeared to be himself. It wasn't a dream, or was it? The painful throbbing made him disregard the question immediately. He had been beat by himself… well, someone wearing his old face…

 

"Harry Potter killed me," he murmured into the nothingness, a note of mild amusement coloring his tone. His face was blank, newish features smoothing into a passive mask of indifference. He was lost here in a swirling misty plane, and now he wondered if it were just a dream or if he had died and this is what death would be like for him.

 

He was empty and hurting. His purgatory was as well…

 

Harry… Was he Harry? If Harry Potter had killed him, then who was he? Was he also Harry Potter? He didn't feel like Harry Potter, not the one that everyone had thought and expected him to be. He never had… He had just never really found the opportune moment to voice his opinion.

 

Let's face it… no one was ever there to listen… Not Ron, he was never the sort to lend a helpful ear. Not Hermione, he had already burdened her with so much, he couldn't throw an identity crisis on top of all the secrets she had sworn to keep. Not Dumbledore… Never Dumbledore…

 

"Stop your self-pity, Potter." He scolded himself aloud, his voice muffled by all the silence. Wasn't that an odd thought? Then an odder thought occurred to him.

 

' _If I'm not Harry Potter, and he 'is' Harry Potter, then who am 'I'?'_

 

Harrys, well whoever he was, head started to thump as he struggled to find answers he didn't have. Closing his eyes, he took a shuddering breath and released it in a loud sigh.

 

The caress of a gentle breeze ghosted across his cheek, making him shiver and open his eyes. It was like a ghostly touch, the wind in a plane of non-existence.

 

Emerald eyes opened wider as he stared at the expanse of lush green grass stirred merrily by the same breeze ruffling his hair and feathers. The pain eased away, leaving his body feeling light. Skies of bright baby blue stretched endlessly overhead, dotted with the odd fluffy white cloud. The rolling green grass slopped downward to meet a pristine pond at a sandy bank.

 

Without thought Harry moved forward, enjoying the soft tickle of grass on his bare feet. He moved towards the water, which upon closer inspection seemed large enough to be classified as a lake. The surface mirrored back his reflection, something so odd and foreign yet him. His image didn't startle him nearly as much as he had expected. It actually grew on him and seemed uniquely fitting, although he had never expected to become 'this', whatever he was. Still, he quite liked his new appearance, even with all its oddness.

 

Ripples erupted across the glassy surface causing a slight distortion in his reflection. Glancing up, Harry released a slight gasp of surprise. Gliding towards him with an ethereal elegance and grace was a black swan with the oddest eyes he'd ever seen on a swan before. The swan drew closer, emerald eyes regarding Harry in a curious manner as sunlight caught on its ebony feathers making it shimmer and sparkle as it approached. It came to rest a mere arms reach away, and Harry found himself wanting to reach out to the creature with the vibrant green eyes. Unmoving, the two, swan and once boy, studied one other.

 

" _I can't lose you now that I have you…"_

 

A voice, rough with desperation, echoed through the planes startling Harry and drawing his eyes away from the swan that seemed undisturbed by the break in silence. There was no one there, but he knew he wasn't imagining it.

 

" _Do you hear me…?"_

 

He wanted to say yes, but he felt as if he couldn't speak.

 

" _You can't give up on yourself, not when I have you here with me now."_

 

Harry felt himself tearing up in frustration. He could hear them, but he couldn't see them! He couldn't speak! They would never hear him!

 

" _More than anything, I need to hear you…"_

 

It was the same voice, the one that had whispered through his mind when the look-alike was about to finish him off. Now, more than ever, he wished he could respond to that voice. He wanted to let them know that he could hear them, that he needed the rough whisper to cling to the last bit of life.

 

" _I want you to say my name and smile that little smile I've seen you give your friends…"_

 

If he had known a name, and if he could speak, he would surely say it. Call it. Cry it… This voice, it was the last connection he had to the world of living breathing creatures. It was the voice of someone who knew him, yet he couldn't place the deep tones.

 

" _Run my fingers through the black silk of your hair and lose myself in your fathomless bright green eyes…"_

 

Harry shuddered, a pleasant tremble traveling the length of his spine at the words. They were the words of a lover, and he felt undeserving yet oddly drawn in by them.

 

" _You are a nuisance, filling my mind with thoughts of you, only to leave me when I can finally hold onto you…"_

 

And now the tears began to fall, slowly, leaking from his eyes and traveling down his cheeks in liquid grief. He felt torn, smothered, trapped… At the rustle of feathers, he looked back down to the black swan that still sat atop the glass surface of the lake but now had been joined by another. The new swan was pure white and a size or two larger than the black one, but by the way they greeted and interacted he could tell they were familiar. The ache in his chest erupted from the sight of the two creatures twining together in a show of intimacy and companionship.

 

His heart ached, and he couldn't breathe. It wasn't until now that he realized how cold he was. And dizzy…

 

There was a feeling of falling and the sound of the startled flutter of feathers. Eyes closed tightly against the sun, he awaited the impact, not even attempting to catch himself.

 

He was being held. Strong warm arms held him close, and the warmth seemed to seep into his chilled core. When had he gotten so cold? Green eyes fluttered weakly open in a vain attempt to see who it was that held him as if he were something precious, something to be desired. As if he weren't himself.

 

There was a flash of silver eyes set in a sharp featured face, framed by long pale hair. It was a face he recognized. One he dreamed about often after the ending of his fifth year.

 

"Lucius…" Harry heard himself whisper, as he attempted to reach up and touch the face that he had never seen quite so gentle, not even in his dreams. But his hand wouldn't lift, and he felt so tired. When had he gotten so tired?

 

" _You're mine, Harry Potter… Mine to have… Mine to hold… Mine in every form of the word, and I refuse to give you up, to even Death himself! Do you hear me!? I won't let you die!"_

 

Large white wings wrapped around him protectively, as his eyes slipped shut. Lucius's words, his deep timbre washed over Harry, making him sigh in contentment as a spark of warmth alighted in his core. In his right mind he would have fought, he was sure, if only to keep up the pretense of being The Boy Who Lived, that Harry Potter. He would gladly not be in his right mind if it meant he could stay here in this new found warmth and protection. The Harry that he had always tried to hide away from those who relied so heavily upon him preened under the attention and welcomed it with open arms.

 

Harry opened his eyes again very slowly, as if fighting sleep, as heat flooded his body driving away the cold, and couldn't stop the giggle of recognition as he spied his own black feathers brushing against the satin white of Lucius' wings.

 

"Just like the swans," Harry whispered, as he closed his eyes again, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

 

~To Be Continued~


	7. Incite

_~True Evil, the Good That Fights It, and Those without A Right to Choose~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; July 31st 1996, 9:00 AM]_

 

"We can't just send the poor girl away!?" Narcissa pleaded, but Lucius shrugged her hand from his shoulder and turned to look down at the young woman sitting at his dining table staring down at the remnants of what had been a very tense breakfast.

 

Lucius was still in his true form, and it seemed to intimidate the bushy haired teen. Draco sat to Hermione's right, and his father's refusal to change back to his 'normal' human form seemed to set him on edge as well, as the boy couldn't even keep up eye contact. Narcissa took her seat once again beside Severus who knew better than to oppose his will.

 

"I am sure you are dying from curiosity and anxiety Miss Granger, and I fear there is little I can indulge you with." Lucius spoke in a deep tone that seemed to startle the girl almost out of her seat. "We have little time, and I believe you are expected elsewhere. I will divulge in but a few of your questions, before we secure your safety and Severus accompanies you to the Burrow."

 

Hermione caught her bottom lip between her teeth as her hands gripped the edges of her chair, and she looked down in concentration mulling over his words, fighting the urge to protest. She couldn't just leave Harry, not with a clear conscious, even though she felt he would be safer here than anywhere.

 

"What about Harry?" Hermione's voice was small and unsure as she looked up at the blonde aristocratic angel staring back at her with steely silver eyes.

 

"What of Mr. Potter?" Lucius repeated back, brow scrunching and eyes narrowing.

 

"I can't just leave him… not after what has happened…" She began slowly, her voice soft but unfaltering. She stared intently into the man's eyes, watching and waiting. She had this feeling, a hunch really, that as long as Lucius was with Harry no one would ever be able to hurt her friend like that ever again. She knew there was something there, simmering beneath the surface. Call it intuition, but she knew without doubt that Lucius would go to any extent to keep Harry safe and happy, and really, she shouldn't believe it, but she did.

 

"Mr. Potter will be safe here…" Lucius spoke softly, with a gentleness the girl had never imagined him capable, and of course he left off the 'with me' that even now perched on the tip of his tongue.

 

Hermione smiled slowly as the words left his lips. "I know," the girl replied, hazel eyes knowing and far older than her age would imply. And it was as simple as that it seemed, for she rose from her chair and gave them all a smile and a soft farewell, before looking to Severus expectantly.

 

"One thing, sir," she said as she turned back to Lucius.

 

"Yes."

 

"What am I to think of this?" she smiled as she waved a hand at him vaguely.

 

"I'm sure you will do adequate research until what you think is close enough to the truth for your own mind, Miss Granger. Severus says you're quite the researcher and bookworm, so there is no doubt in my mind that you won't be able to come up with your own answer to that question." Lucius replied with his own subtle upturn to his lips.

 

"Yes, well, please tell Harry I'm good and safe, and I won't tell a soul about what I have seen or know." She said before taking Severus's offered elbow. Severus nodded to Lucius who gave a tilt of his own head in response; the two disappeared with a soft pop as they were apparated away.

 

"I cannot believe you sent that child away when that monster will most likely be there!" Narcissa almost yelled at him as she rose from her chair. It was rare for her to raise her voice to him in such a way, but the one thing she couldn't stand more than anything was the mistreatment of children, much like most of the females and Submissives of their kind.

 

"Calm yourself, Narcissa," Lucius said smoothly, locking eyes with his soon to be ex-wife, a small soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips at how protective she got over children, even those that were not her own. "She will be safe. I do not know what that creature is per say, but I do recognize the wound that he had inflicted upon Miss Granger."

 

Narcissa closed her mouth instantly stopping herself from saying more as she listened to what Lucius had to say. Draco sat rigidly watching his parents, and as his mother calmed he relaxed back into his chair, eyes never straying from his father.

 

"The bite mark on her shoulder is a sign. I believe that that creature has no intention of hurting the girl. It is likely he will be extremely protective of her, in his own way." Lucius said slowly, watching as his 'wife' and son took in his words, and a look of shocked understanding swept over Narcissa's face.

 

"You aren't saying that he… That she… ?" Narcissa couldn't seem to get her sentence out, as her eyes widened in utter shock and horror.

 

"I'm afraid so…" Lucius said softly.

 

Draco looked back and forth between his parents, not quite understanding what they were talking about, and he made his confusion known. "What does the bite mark have to do with anything, father?"

 

"It was a claim…" Lucius's voice dropped an octave as he turned from the two and strode from the room with intent on returning to his still sleeping mate. He worried for Miss Granger, he did, but he had to take care of more important business. Hermione was Harry's friend, but Harry came first for Lucius, and would for as long as he had the boy with him. This was something that would probably bother Harry at first, but he'd learn to accept that he was the most important thing in Lucius's life now. A small smile settled on his lips as he thought of how life would be now, now that he had that missing piece back with him.

 

~ LM/HP~

_[Somewhere Else; July 31st 1996, 9:00 AM]_

 

"How went it then? I trust that the 'boy' will no longer be a problem..." a deep voice rumbled from the shadows that fell over a figure seated in a rather ornate chair. Un-Harry swept a low bow, dropping to one knee as he glanced up at the figure through his lashes. He couldn't make out the man's features in the gloom of the room lit by a single blue flamed scone that cast eerie shadows upon the stone walls.

 

"The boy... I took care of him, but there was…" Un-Harry paused to think of the best way to word what he was about to say.

 

"Yes?" came the man's deep rumble; it wasn't demanding, but it gave no room for thought, setting Un-Harry on edge. This 'man', his 'master', had the power to create and destroy, and this was something that he seemed to enjoy hanging over Un-Harry's usually bowed head.

 

Tilting his head to the side in a thoughtful manner, Un-Harry tried for a look of thought, as he spoke words he knew would very well anger the man seated in the chair that borderline obscene extravagance. "There was an interruption, and I was not able to watch the life slip from the boy formerly known as Harry James Potter. As you can see, my lord, I have the scar and his wand as proof of his defeat… Which I must add, defeating him was possibly the easiest thing I have ever attempted, not much of a fight for the supposed Boy-Who-Lived." A cocky smirk spread over the face of Un-Harry as he recalled the simplicity it was to take out the Boy in whom many had chosen to put their faith. Humans, even of the magical kind, were stupid creatures indeed.

 

"Interruption?" the man spoke, bypassing commenting on the cocky nature of the Un-Harry before him.

 

"Yes…" Un-Harry's smile fell immediately. He watched in abject horror as his 'master' rose from his 'throne' and took a step from the dais to now stand before his still kneeling figure.

 

"What kind of interruption?" the man's voice was cold and held a dangerous edge.

 

"One of his friends… The mud-blood, she showed up right as I rose his wand to extinguish what little life he still clung to," Un-Harry answered slowly. He regretted bringing Hermione into this. She really was an exquisite creature, and he would love nothing more than to convince her that he, the new Harry James Potter, was the only person she would ever need.

 

"His mud-blood friend? I see…" the man started to pace slow circles around him now, and he fought all fight or flight instincts, remaining perfectly still so not to incur the wrath and anger simmering right under the man's cool surface.

 

"She… she has been infected…" Un-Harry spoke softly, making sure to keep his eyes on the stone floor before him.

 

"Has she now? Then she will not be able to go against you." His master sounded pleased, and it made Un-Harry shudder.

 

"Yes…"

 

"Good, good… " the man purred, reaching down to grip a hand in the unruly black mess of Un-Harry's hair, with a tug he stared down at the imitation Potter, a wicked grin spread across his face. "Next time make sure there is no need to 'infect' anyone."

 

"Yes… master…" Needless to say, he was not about to bring up the 'winged rescuer' in front of the man…

 

~ LM/HP~

 

_[Malfoy Manor; Wiltshire, England; July 31st 1996, 12:00 PM]_

 

Harry woke feeling stiff yet well rested. His mind felt foggy like it usually did when he would find himself waking up in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts after yet another night of fighting for his life. But he didn't remember being at Hogwarts. No…

 

Harry cringed as he remembered what had happened. Opening his eyes slowly he stared into the blackness of a completely dark room. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the vastness of the room and would bet half his vault in Gringotts that it was richly decorated in a splendor he wasn't accustomed to. As his eyes darted around the darkness, he felt no need to get up from the most comfortable bed he'd ever been in, nor did he feel in a rush to get away from the warm press of a larger body against his back.

 

Mind coming to a screeching halt, Harry glanced down timidly at the arms wrapped protectively around his middle and could barely make out the image of pale long fingered hands resting on his stomach and hip. A shiver ran down his spine as he slowly traced his eyes up the strong arm to the shoulder of its owner and with a bit of a strain that made him cringe in pain as his wings ruffled trapped between his back and a firm chest. Green eyes widened in shock, and Harry didn't even try to suppress the gasp as it came unbidden. He abruptly looked away, staring into the darkness trying to understand how he got here with this man.

 

Lucius Malfoy. Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, the man who had tried to kill him not even a month ago… Well, he didn't exactly try to kill him… He had actually protected Harry… Beside the point! Why was he in a bed with the man?! Why was he even with the man at all?! Why wasn't he trying to get away?!

 

Suddenly the dream, as vivid as it had been at the time, resurfaced, and all Harry could think of were those two swans and how Lucius had held him. He felt so safe and warm. The swans. What about the swans? Why did the thought of the two swans cause an almost painful stirring in his chest, an almost longing? The thought of leaving the arms of this man had a similar reaction. Why? What was wrong with him? Was there something wrong with him? He shouldn't find comfort here, but yet he did. Shouldn't it bother him more than it did that he was so accepting of his current situation?

 

Harry became unfortunately dizzy as the questions spun around in his mind. He must have been shaking, because he felt movement behind him and soon found himself being turned around so he was facing the blonde's broad chest. Long thin fingers splayed across his lower back and between his still aching wings as he was pulled into what he dared to call a comforting embrace. And sure enough he was shivering from shock and didn't even bother fighting the hold the man had on him.

 

Lucius woke to the feel of his young mate shivering. He had yet to leave the boy since returning from seeing off Miss Granger, holding him through his sleep. His nightmares…? Lucius had found that the shaking tended to stop when he pressed the young male closer, holding him like a precious doll with protective arms that refused to let go. Harry never fought him in his sleep, but he'd never had the chance to find out if the same were true when the boy was awake. Harry was so accepting of the forging bond between them while he slumbered, but the chances of him fighting it while fully alert were high and something Lucius didn't look forward to.

 

Yes, Harry was awake, and Lucius fought his inner need to go further in comforting than to just hold the shaking creature. He didn't want to run the boy off. He didn't want to scare him. And most of all, he didn't wish to be rejected.

 

Turning the boy to face him, he drew him closer to his chest and half expected the small male to fight him. Harry stiffened for just a second, and Lucius could smell the panic that quickly was replaced by relief as Harry relaxed. Two small hands wadded into the front of his shirt refusing to let him go, and then Harry cried. The salt of those tears were heavy on Lucius's tongue, and all he could do was hold Harry. He knew the boy was confused and was glad that Harry followed his instincts and didn't fight him.

 

"Cry it all out." He murmured in a rough voice due to lack of use. "You've had a rough past few days, so just cry it all out…"  _My little mate…_

 

"Why…?" Harry almost whimpered into the firm chest beneath his hands. He didn't understand why Lucius was being so gentle with him, or even why Lucius was with him at all. He just knew that he may not have the ability to let the man go, not right now, possibly not ever.

 

"Why?" Lucius murmured into soft black hair that still smelt of blood and sweat, but ignored it in favor of nuzzling the locks fondly as he inhaled more of the underlying scent of Harry. He couldn't suppress the slight fear that this moment could be when Harry rejected him for the first time. Lucius's hands slid to hold Harry by the hips, as if deciding whether to pull him closer or push him away.

 

"You… why are you… doing this? Don't…don't you ha-hate me…?" Harry hiccupped as he tried not to enjoy the feeling of the man's hands running down his back and settling firmly on his hips. He felt a bit panicked as he realized that Lucius stopped his nuzzling and any of the pleasant comforting of his hands was gone.

 

"I do not hate you. I could never hate you." Lucius spoke softly, hands sliding back up to their previous positions between Harry's wings and on his lower back, trying to keep himself from saying too much. "I need you…"  _You are already a part of me... and more dear than I could have ever imagined or planned…_

 

Harry melted into the embrace, the words sinking in and warming his wounded little heart. No one had ever said they needed him for anything more than fulfilling his role as the savior of the Wizarding World, but he knew that that isn't what Lucius had meant, even though it seemed as if there was so much more the blonde had wanted to say. The fact that it was Lucius Malfoy who had spoken the words no longer mattered. They were honest words, spoken in a deep rumble, and Harry's eyes pricked again with newly forming tears.

 

~ LM/HP~

 

_[Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest; July 31st 1996, 12:00 PM]_

 

Un-Harry walked through the underbrush smiling smugly as he caught a glimpse of a centaur hiding behind a thicket of trees to his left several feet away. They wouldn't approach him. Nothing in the forest would. They could sense his 'uniqueness', and they were frightened of him.

 

"As they should be," he mumbled to himself, pushing past a bramble that clung to his cloak.

 

Finally reaching his destination, he stopped and stared into the clearing, a single old stump stood in the center, and with a held breath he stepped into the open.

 

"Here I am again… You'd think I'd stop returning to you, but I can't…" Un-Harry walked towards the stump, his pace slow as if he were afraid of frightening the long since dead remnants of what had once been a great oak.

 

"I've done something horrible today…" he said placing his hand on the large stump that stood a great six foot high with a girth of a tree well over 500 years of age. "I do not feel bad about what I have done; I just regret that I must allow someone to tell me the things I must do. You are lucky, my friend. No one can order you about and rule your existence." Un-Harry smiled a bitter sweet smile. "You are my existence…" he murmured softly as he placed a gentle palm against the stump. An eerie green glow of a ripple came from his touch, and he chuckled slowly. "My heart…"

 

Then he was gone like he was never there at all.

 

~To Be Continued~


	8. Awareness

_~Forgetting Tomorrows Yesterday~_

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; July 31st 1996, 9:15 AM]_

 

Hermione arrived at the Burrow alone. Snape had apparated them within walking distance. Before he could disapparate, he turned to her, giving her a pitying glare, and then without a word, he was gone in a swirl of black. She stood there, watching until the mist was completely gone, until the air was clear as if it were never there to begin with.

 

Heaving a sigh, Hermione turned to look down the long dirt road that led to her destination. Slowly, she moved her feet, dragging them in reluctance. A cool sweat broke out across her skin making her shiver as her neck began to ache.

 

He'd be there…

 

It wasn't fear that she felt. She was very accustomed to fear. After all, she was friends with the real and Great Harry Potter Danger Magnet.

 

The walk took longer than she had expected as she stumbled tiredly toward the Burrow's front door which flew open wide before she could even reach out a hand. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were there to greet her with big ginger smiles. Smiles full of ignorance and innocence. Smiles that said that they were honestly glad to see her and that nothing was wrong; everything was right. Blissfully ignorant, something that Hermione was not…

 

"Hermione, dear, we're so glad you're here!" Mrs. Weasley said happily before pulling Hermione into a big hug. "How has your summer been, dear?!"

 

"It's been…" Hermione struggled to answer while trying to force a natural looking smile as she hugged the red headed woman back. "It's been… really eventful…"

 

"Oh! Sounds like you've had fun!" Mrs. Weasley chuckled.

 

 _You have no idea…_ Hermione couldn't help but think, before cringing as the wound on her shoulder stung slightly. Ginny caught her eye with a curious expression as she must have seen her bandage.

 

"Harry isn't here yet, and Ron ran off with Fred and George to do a bit of quick last minute grocery shopping. We are also expecting Bill any minute now." Molly continued as she then proceeded to usher the two girls inside. Once inside she left them to their own devices as a timer blared its existence from the kitchen. "Oh! Cookies are done! You girls just have fun catching up! Cookies!"

 

The two sat awkwardly in the sitting room for a beat or two before Ginny decided to get straight to the point.

 

"So! My summer was boring!" Ginny chirped as she clapped her hands lightly in her lap, her eyes becoming sharp and intrusive as she stared at Hermione from her end of the couch. "And yours was 'eventful'… So tell me Hermione, is that bandage hiding a rather large and embarrassing hickey?"

 

"Ginny…" Hermione tried to start, but Ginny just cut her off with a series of questions. With each question, her voice got a little more excited and elevated an octave.

 

"What's his name?! Where did you guys meet?! How long have you known each other?! Is he cute?! Have you guys did 'it' yet?!"

 

In the midst of her rapid fire questions the front door opened and closed, but Hermione was too bothered by this horrible turn of conversation to see who it was.

 

"Ginny…! It's not like that…!"

 

"Well of course it is! Everyone knows that you've gotten hotter over the last few years, so it's not a surprise that you'd hook up with someone over the summer and have wild kinky sex! I mean, we all know Ron has the hots for you, why settle for him now when you're way out of his league! OH! Was it Viktor!?" Ginny exclaimed, completely ignoring the newest inhabitant of the room.

 

"That's absurd!" Hermione squeaked, face growing warm at the implication of such things. "I would never! Viktor and I haven't spoken, let alone seen each other in over a year, and Ron and I are just friends, with normal friend like feelings for each other!"

 

"Your denial just proves that I'm right! And of course Ron is madly hot for you… It's kind of gross really…"

 

"Ginny…" Someone spoke slowly, a disbelieving yet reprimanding tone to their voice.

 

Both girls jumped and turned to look at Bill. Ginny had the humility to look a bit sheepish. Hermione, on the other hand was mortified. How long had he been there?! How much of Ginny's crazy talk had he heard?! Moreover, did he believe such ludacris talk?!

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; July 31st 1996, 6:00 PM]_

 

Harry awoke again to find himself still in the same luxurious room, but this time there was no Lucius lying in the overly large bed with him. His chest felt oddly tight for some reason, and he refused to accept that it was because of the blonde's absence.

 

Levering himself up with aching bandaged arms he gingerly forced himself into a somewhat upright position. He hurt all over… He was wrapped quite generously in bandages as well… It should be worse… It should hurt more…

 

"I should be dead…" Harry whispered into the semi-dark, head swimming dangerously with those all too recent memories and emotions. Clambering from the bed as quickly as he was able, Harry made a stumbling dash for the nearest floor-to-ceiling arched window which was conveniently already cracked a bit to allow the fresh summer air into the room. He tripped over the too large black silk sleep pants held up by their flimsy draw string, obviously belonging to Lucius along with the loosely fitting far too big black matching silk button up shirt, as he went. With clammy palms he pushed at the glass, easing the window open wider while allowing the late summer afternoon breeze into the room.

 

Harry gasped for air as his head and vision swam dangerously. He couldn't breathe. It felt like smothering, the pressure of the days past crushing him under it all. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes as he clutched at the window sill trying to calm down.

 

He should be dead right now… but he wasn't. Why?

 

Lucius…

 

Almost as if summoned by Harry's internal turmoil and the mere thought of him, Lucius entered the room. Noticing what state Harry seemed to be in, Lucius approached him with caution and care, murmuring his name in that low voice that seemed to reverberate to Harry's very core.

 

Once in the tall blonde's arms, Harry hiccupped out a sob and let himself just be held by this enemy turned surprisingly comforting whatever he was.

 

"Shhh, Harry… Just breathe…" Lucius whispered in his hair as he slowly maneuvered Harry towards the bed.

 

"I should be dead…" Harry whispered into Lucius' chest.

 

"What?" Lucius had heard, of course, but he had hoped he'd heard wrong.

 

Harry pulled away so he could look at the angelic man with silver eyes and enough compassion to save an enemy. Lucius settled himself on the edge of the bed with Harry still in arm's length.

 

"I should have died… But you saved me…" Harry said again, emerald eyes big and pleading as they stared at Lucius. He was shivering all over and looking very much his age… "Why did you save me? Why would you save me again!? I should… Why am I alive…?" Harry stressed as he looked down before trying to dry his face with the too long sleeves of his shirt.

 

Lucius could feel his heart breaking as he regarded the boy with his usual unyielding expression. This was something altogether very alarming to Lucius. Of course the boy was his mate, but that didn't mean that feelings would be involved. Feelings in and of themselves were very foreign to him. His mate was meant for him, belonged to him, but his heart would still be his, as would theirs be. Feelings, love, sympathy, all of this, none of them were expected, but here, right now, he could feel the possibility of them existing for this small darkly feathered youth if given time and reason.

 

Reaching towards the teen, Lucius placed his hand left on a small silk covered shoulder before running his hand up to caress the bandaged neck while he rested the other on the youth's hip possessively. This drew Harry's eyes back up to him in almost an alarmed manner.

 

"There are reasons, reasons I don't think you are ready to hear from me right now, but I will tell you this: You are alive, and I would and will save you as many times as I have to keep you that way," Lucius said, his voice low while trying to keep as much of what he was feeling from being revealed.

 

"I don't even know what that means…" Harry started, but Lucius silenced him by sliding his hand further up Harry's neck to his check before slowly caressing his jaw.

 

"Give it time. For now don't think about yesterday or tomorrow. Heal. Patience is a virtue you will need in this situation, I'm afraid, and I fear Mr. Potter you will have to muster what little Gryffindor patience you're allotted for an overbearing lion."

 

Harry couldn't stop the small upturn at the corner of his lips as he hiccupped a soft laugh at the insanity of the situation. Here he was, standing before The Malfoy, bandaged, bruised, wet-eyed, and red faced in too big silk pajamas. Unbidden a laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep inside of him. At the confused look on the normally stern face of Lucius, Harry couldn't help but let it be followed by several more as he tried to dry the remainder of tears from his eyes. This was a very unusual, yet not quite so much so since he was Harry Potter Boy Who Attracted Trouble, situation he found himself, and as much as he may regret it later or deny it to no end he couldn't think of anyone else he would rather see sitting before him with such a perplexed and confused expression. And although the man hadn't really gave him all the answers that he thought he needed, only proving to make the whole thing even more confusing, he couldn't suppress the bubble of warmth and contentment settling in the bottom of his heart.

 

Oh Merlin…! He's broken Lucius Malfoy…!

 

Lucius watched the boy laugh and dab away tears, unable to stop his brows from their travels towards his hairline.

 

Oh, Merlin… He's broken Harry Potter…

 

~To Be Continued~


	9. Anonymity

_~I Whisper My Name In The Darkness Where None may Hear It~_

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; July 31st 1996, 9:30 AM]_

 

Hermione sat awkwardly, trying to avoid looking Bill in the face. Ginny had just sprinted off to the kitchen to tell Mrs. Weasley that he was here and still hadn't come back… That was fifteen minutes ago… Not that Hermione needed Ginny to come back and make it even more awkward than it already was…

 

Merlin! Bill had heard all that! What must he think of her now! Hermione almost felt like crying. Just go to bed early, claim she had a headache. She could sleep! She deserved it after 'EVERYTHING'.

 

To distract herself Hermione tried to think of Harry and how confused he must be right now. How was he being treated? Most likely quite well, if not a bit coldly by Lucius. She didn't even try to delude herself into thinking that the elder Malfoy would be kind, although she knew he wouldn't hurt her friend. When she was there, she saw the protectiveness but nothing like caring. It was almost as if Lucius did everything because he must, not because there was a pure want behind those steely grey eyes. But there were moments… Moments when she could see a flicker of feeling, of emotion behind those resigned hard eyes...

 

Bill was staring at her…

 

Hermione lost her train of thought…

 

Swallowing her distress Hermione turned her head slightly daring to glance at the eldest Weasley boy from the corner of her eye. Yes, Bill was staring, and now he was smiling. He'd caught her peeking.

 

"So how has your summer been, Hermione?" Bill asked pleasantly enough, thankfully not yet mentioning anything she's sure he had overheard.

 

Hermione bit her tongue as she fully turned to regard the smiling face of one very attractive Bill Weasley while thinking of her answer, selecting the right words. "Not nearly long enough, yet far too long for my tastes. I spent it with my parents, just catching up really… How was your summer… Bill…?" Hermione almost whispered his name as his smile edged more towards a smirk as he moved to sit beside her on the couch.

 

"Better, now that I know I can spend the rest of it with such a lovely young lady, with no attachments," Bill grinnd, looking down at her face with sparkling eyes.

 

Hermione didn't know how to respond, but thankfully, he saved her from having to respond as his eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. Well… maybe not thankfully…

 

"Hermione, are you feeling ill?" he said, eyes glinting with worry as his brows drew together and a big hand brushed across her temple.

 

"I… I'm fine! Why do you ask…?" Hermione stuttered out, repressing a shiver at his touch.

 

"I don't know… You just look, pale…" Bill said, his voice worried, the look in his eyes telling her he didn't believe her one bit.

 

"I'm a bit tired is all," she almost huffed as she pulled further away towards her end of the couch to put a bit of missing space between them.

 

"You should take a nap then. I'm sure mum won't mind," Bill said, as he stood up from the couch, looking from Hermione to the kitchen where they could hear Mrs. Weasley directing Ginny in the middle of some food related task. "I can let her know."

 

"Okay, thank you… Bill…" Hermione responds almost too quickly, before getting to her feet and almost dashing to the stairs that would lead her to a refuge from Bill's worried beautiful eyes and far too handsome face…

 

"Oh, and Hermione," Bill calls to her, causing her to pause in her ascent of the uneven stairs.

 

"Yes…?"

 

"I meant it," at her questioning look he explained further before turning to enter the kitchen. "I'm glad that I get to spend some time here with you."

 

Hermione didn't respond as she turned back and quickly toke the stairs almost two at a time until she reached Ginny's room, where she would be staying until they left for Hogwarts. Crookshanks is there, sitting atop her bed, eyeing her curiously as she floped down beside him face first.

 

Too much had happened… Far too much… She thought, face burning from a bright blush.

 

Hermione fell asleep to thoughts of Bill. His eyes... The way he smiled at her, fueling a crush she's had for a while now. For now, just for a bit, she forgets about how everything is changing and becoming more difficult. She forgets about the sting of pain at her shoulder, and the one who put it there just that morning. She forgets, getting lost in the happy warmth that thoughts of Bill bring her, just for a moment, and sleeps.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; July 31st 1996, 6:23 PM]_

 

He stood at her bedside looking down at her sleeping face, eyes softer than anyone who knew him would ever have thought capable. He smiled the softest of smiles as he slowly brushed a piece of brown hair from her face. She looked tired. He knew that it was from the infection.

 

"I'll remain nameless, but my dear Hermione, just call for me and I will be there." He leant forward and placed a soft kiss on her pale cheek. "Soon enough you will be like me and you will be mine. There is no compromise in the ways of my kind."

 

Making his way over towards the still ajar window he looked back one last time as Hermione stirred in her sleep, a small grimace of pain tilting the corners of her lips as her brow scrunched in obvious pain. His poison, his gift, was even now working its way to her heart, to her very core. Soon enough she would be with him. She would become him. She would become his.

 

"Farewell, for now, my sweet Hermione," he breathed softly.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 1st 1996, 6:35 AM]_

 

Harry woke with a start, not remembering having fallen asleep. He was alone in the far too big bed once again. The last he remembered was that awkward almost 'sweet' moment he had had with Lucius. Then there may have been some cuddling, but he refused to believe such dreadful memories to be real… He did not cuddle!

 

As he moved to sit up, he was pleased to find that he hurt far less than he had previously. With extra vigor he climbed out of bed and read the time on a rather ornate gold clock sitting on the bedside table that read 6:36.

 

Whatever had come over him these past few hours, the weakness that left him in Lucius' arms was gone now, and he'd rather think it never happened. Just a lapse. He was weak, and Lucius had made something deep inside of him feel safe.

 

Harry wandered around the room thinking of all his available ways of escape. He couldn't possibly stay here… He had to get out and find help. He had to warn everyone that there was another Harry, an Un-Harry, who had tried to kill him. As he made a wide circle of the room, looking over everything with a critical eye, he felt the dull ache of his injuries start up, and the strain of his still broken wings trying not to drag the floor. He had to leave. He had to leave now before the pain started up again as more than just a bone weary throbbing.

 

Not finding anything of any use in the room, Harry moved to the window that still sat slightly open, allowing the crisp morning breeze into the room. The window overlooked the fountain and the back gardens of the Malfoy estate. If he could slip out quietly and quickly enough, he could make it through the gardens and be out of here before they even knew he was gone.

 

This would be so much easier if he had his wand… and a map… that had the Malfoy estate marked… because he also had no clue as to where he was…

 

No helping that now, he thought as he opened the window further and climbed over the sill a bit clumsily, happy that this room was on the first floor.

 

He began to move as soon as his bare feet touched grass. Emerald eyes scanned the surrounding garden that he could see for any movement before he began his trek towards the fountain and freedom beyond.

 

Several minutes of walking found him at a hedge maze…

 

Harry shuddered at the memory of the Tri Wizard Tournament, and he hesitated not knowing if he should enter or try to find a way around… He was starting to ache all over now, wings limp, feet sore. The silk loose sleep pants he had on were now smudged with dirt and grass, no longer pristine and white, the whole bottom seam covered in dirt where it drug the ground.

 

There was a rustling behind him, causing his heart to beat rapidly behind his bruised ribcage, as he spun around only to find a peacock looking at him with glassy curious eyes. Releasing a sigh of relief Harry was about to turn back around to continue on his exit but froze as a shadow fell over him.

 

He almost screamed as long fingered hands came down to take hold of his shoulders before spinning him around to face an irate looking Lucius. The Malfoys wings were flared in what Harry felt to be warning as he towered over Harry's smaller frame, but Harry refused to back down and cower although he was a bit terrified…

 

"You weren't in the room," Lucius almost growled out at him, and Harry could barely suppress the shiver as those hands tightened their grip on him like Lucius was afraid he would vanish if he let go.

 

"I'm leaving…" Harry tried to sound confident when he declared his intentions, but even he could hear the waver in his voice.

 

"Leaving." It's not a question, but Harry answered, as he saw Lucius' eyes grow darker the more he talked.

 

"I can't stay here… I don't want to stay here!" Harry said defiantly.

 

"You are going to stay here. Where would you go, looking like that?" Lucius said coolly, silver eyes narrowing.

 

And damn… Harry hadn't thought about that… No one but Hermione knew who he was looking like this…

 

A cruel little smirk curled Lucius' mouth as he watched Harry falter in his escape plan. "You have no idea what awaits you outside of these walls. In here you are safe."

 

"Safe…"

 

"You have no idea what humans would do to you if they found you like this, weak… stupid…"

 

"I'm not stupid!" Harry protested as Lucius attempted to steer him back towards the mansion. "I don't want to be here. I don't feel safe here. I don't feel safe with you!" Harry spat, ignoring all the feelings that he still struggled with that told him he was lying even while speaking.

 

Lucius rounded on him then, eyes blazing liquid silver, angry. His wings were unfurled and intimidating, and Harry couldn't help but try and draw back as far as Lucius' grip on him would allow. "Liar." Lucius' voice was low, clam and cold, at odds with the fire burning behind his eyes. "I can hear it when you speak. I can see it as you fight me. Liar."

 

"I-I-I'm… I'm n-not lying…!" Harry tried to protest against his better judgment. "I need to leave!"

 

"You know nothing! You do not know what you are. You do not even know who you are," Lucius hissed, barring down on Harry who attempted to curl in on himself. "But you know one thing; deep inside of you I know you can feel it, the pull. You belong here, you belong to me."

 

Harry wanted to scream at him, tell him he was crazy but he couldn't open his mouth that had gone oddly dry at Lucius' words. It wasn't fear that curled low in his belly, but he refused to give it a name, give it more meaning…

 

"Of everything you do not know Harry Potter, one thing you can be certain of, you are mine." These words were said coldly, without any feeling, and the grip of sadness that curled its way around his heart confused Harry, and he just collapsed there, the weight of harsh words sinking in.

 

He didn't want to listen, to believe, but Lucius's words… He couldn't find it in him to deny them… He didn't know who or what he was. And at the thought of protesting the mark of ownership Lucius seemed to think he had on him Harry felt his throat grow tight, and the prick of tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

 

Harry was stupid… He really was… He had let himself entertain thoughts of their being something, something soft between them, even though he would be the first to deny such thoughts. Lucius had seemed so kind while he was broken, completely at odds with the almost snarling man staring down at him now.

 

As for Lucius, well, he felt the curl of disappointment and something akin to hurt curl its nasty claws around his heart as he looked down at Harry, who refused to look at him now. He'd spoken the truth. This was not about feeling. He didn't love Harry, but Harry was his. This was not about love. This was ownership. This was a dominate taking charge of his wayward submissive. Yet he could not deny that it pained him to see Harry crumble under his harsh words.

 

And no matter how much or how often he kept repeating this, he couldn't suppress the warmth that spread from his fingers, where they gripped the boys thin shoulders, up his arms before spreading to rest of him. He didn't know what it was, and he did not want to know…

 

He had wanted a mate… His mate… He had them here… But still he wanted… He wanted more, not knowing what 'more' he wanted. He needed… Something…

 

~To Be Continued~


	10. Refuge

_~Shelter From The Watchful Eye~_

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; August 27st 1996, 12:15 PM]_

 

Several weeks had passed without incident at the Borrow. Un-Harry had arrived the day after Hermione, his things arriving the morning of his appearance a scant hour before the boy himself, escorted by a very silent Dumbledore, who's periwinkle eyes seemed to sparkle far less than usual as he regarded his young charge. Summer was coming to a close, only four days left till the teens were to board the Hogwarts Express and be on their way to start the new school year.

 

Hermione sat in the soft cool grass beneath the yawning shade of an old oak in the Weasleys back yard, a thick tome resting in her lap forgotten, eyes closed as she leaned back against the rough yet southing bark. The breeze twisted around her, tickling her with the strands of her own hair. She counted her breaths, soft and even with the rustle of the leaves, and felt at piece. Her mind and body seemed to betray her age as she just sat resting, at ease. She felt weaker by the day, less… human… less everything… She was so tired, but she could no longer find sleep in the bed she shared with Ginny. Only here could she sleep.

 

She would say Un-Harry, the threat he posed for everyone she cared for, was the furthest thing from her mind, but he was there, always there watching her, reminding her. Even now, the leather bound volume on magical creatures rare and common alike that rest in her lap wasn't a new addition. She'd dragged it out of her trunk the day after her arrival and began to search for anything that could help. She looked for acrid biting monsters with changing faces to elves with wings like avenging angels, but so far found nothing.

 

During these past weeks, Hermione kept more to herself than she usually would have, but the main Weasley brood ignored it for the most part, fancying that she was just brushing up on her knowledge before school. Only Bill went out of his way to sit with her. He looked worried, more often than not. They talked often about everything really, from magical creatures he had come into contact with on his journey to Hermione when she was just a muggle child living in a world where magic supposedly didn't exist. Sometimes when the silence lapsed, they would just sit, and she would listen to his breathing, her eyes watching the sway of the grass.

 

Un-Harry kept his distance from her, but she felt him, could feel him even now, watching her. No one seemed to notice the slight differences that Un-Harry displayed on occasion; if they noticed, no one mentioned it. Ron was none the wiser that his closest friend was not his friend at all. Molly and Arthur didn't have a clue that the thing they housed wasn't their pseudo son at all but a creature with vile plans behind hardened green eyes and coke bottle glasses. The same went for Ginny, who flirted and giggled, enjoying when Un-Harry flirted in kind. Fred and George were much like Crookshanks, avoiding Un-Harry altogether, much like Hermione tried to do.

 

Today was one of those days where she sat, Bill at her side plucking at blades of grass their breath matching in the slow even tempo they found here. Hermione's hands were folded atop the open pages; her hands were as pale as the parchment they rested upon. She listened to the sound of laughter coming from beyond the fence, in the field where the other's played an odd game of backwards quidditch, only opening her eyes as the touch of one of Bill's hands on hers.

 

Turning her brown-eyed gaze upon Bill, a wisp of a smile crossed her lips. "I'm dreadful company, aren't I?" her voice was soft like the breeze that chilled their skin, eyes gentle like the shade of great peaceful tree they rested under.

 

"Not at all," Bill replied, no thought needed to answer such a question. "I'd rather sit with you here, and just be… I don't need anything more than that."

 

Hermione gave a small quiet laugh, eyes focusing back on the field where the others were winding down their game. "You, William Arthur Weasley, flatter me."

 

Bill smiled at her fondly as he squeezed her hand under his, drawing her eyes down to their clasped hands and the all but forgotten book, almost as if she had forgotten the touch altogether. "Not flattery, Hermione, just plain honesty. I am more than happy to sit beside you in silence as just talk. But I do worry."

 

"Oh?" Hermione questioned softly, eyes still studying their hands, his larger one fully encompassing her own smaller frail fingers.

 

"I worry about you. You grow paler by the day. Mum tells me it's just my imagination, but you aren't well, Hermione," Bill said slowly, eyes trained on the young woman beside him.

 

"I know…" Hermione relented, having dealt with the issue before, but too tired to deny them any longer.

 

"I wish you would tell me what is wrong. Does it have something to do with how strangely Harry's been acting, and why you've been avoiding him?" Bill questioned.

 

Hermione couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled up her throat slowly before it was released for Bill to hear. Bill Weasley was quite perceptive, it seemed. "Indeed," was Hermione's response.

 

"Hermione…"

 

"There are things that I can't speak of because even I do not know enough about them. There are things I dare not speak of because I fear even you would not believe me. And there are things that I cannot even begin to find the words to say aloud," Hermione spoke then; eyes hard as her gaze travelled back to the group of six that now headed their way. Ron was ruffling Un-Harry's hair affectionately, as Fred and George trotted ahead of the group on their way over to Hermione and Bill's resting spot. "There is so much I want to tell you, but I can't… Please understand Bill…" Hermione's eyes were back on him now, almost pleading in their wide intensity.

 

"I understand, but know that I'm here when you find the words," Bill said, removing his hand from hers, before standing to greet his brothers.

 

"Bill," Hermione caught his hand before he could stride away from her, eyes soft and voice low as he stopped to look down at her. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you… But thank you for worrying about me. I'm alright, really." With that said she released his hand, allowing hers to rest atop the open book again. Bill nodded to her with a small affectionate patient smile before stepping away from her. And perhaps she hadn't meant to hear, but he heard none-the-less, a whispered "I hope" that made his heart squeeze tightly in his chest and a feeling of dread pool in his gut.

 

~To Be Continued~


	11. Disposition

_~Forgiven, For Truth Of Your Behavior~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 27st 1996, 6:05 AM]_

 

The past few weeks seemed to fly by in a haze for Harry, who had yet to try another attempt on an escape plan. After the confrontation with Lucius in the Maze, Harry gave the man a wide berth, his harsh words replaying over and over in Harry's mind.

 

He didn't see Draco very often due to him spending the summer with Blaise and his mother.

 

Harry found that he spent most of his time with the lovely and mild-mannered Narcissa. They spent more time just sitting in silence sipping tea and staring out at the calming fountain and gardens that lay behind Malfoy Manor than talking. At first they had fallen into this routine by accident, Harry avoiding Lucius, and Narcissa bidding farewell to a version of Snape Harry had yet to meet. He had witnessed their parting by accident really, and when he went to flee and give them privacy their moment was over and Snape was gone leaving Narcissa to invite him to a bit of tea on the veranda.

 

Today started much like the rest of them. He'd woken to an empty room far too big for just him, not for the first time realizing that Lucius seemed to be avoiding him as well or just letting Harry have his way for now. It was quite, and the morning was just starting to lighten up. Dressing in loose clothing, more silk pajamas, todays an emerald green… No one had yet to do anything to remedy his lack of wardrobe situation, Lucius seeming more than content to allow Harry to share his sleepwear collection.

 

Harry lifted his arms high over his head, muscles stretching with the motion, a yawn falling from his lips. In a motion he was becoming quite accustomed, his wings spread, following the ascent of his arms, tips brushing his fingers. No longer wounded, as they were when he first came here, he found they were much more accommodating. Black feathers were growing back in where they had been pulled free, itching slightly. A gentle flutter of his wings eased the itch as he allowed both his arms and wings to fall back to his sides.

 

Harry left his room, feeling a small hunger start to rumble through his belly, prompting him on. Harry went to meet Narcissa on the veranda where the house elves were probably already preparing them for their usual breakfast.

 

Narcissa wasn't alone…

 

Lucius stood tall next to Narcissa's already seated figure at their usual spot. He was eyeing the scroll lying on the table before the woman who held a long feathered quill in her grasp. They were talking to low for Harry to hear, and his heart felt caught in a grip as Lucius leaned down bringing his face close to Narcissas, eyes still trained on the document. Harry wasn't jealous or anything, the two were married after all… If anyone should have a problem with the way things were currently going it should be Narcissa. But she had Snape, didn't she? This whole situation was ridiculous. Harry didn't understand a bit of it!

 

Harry's eyes began to get a bit blurry as his mind tried to wrap around his current situation and why seeing the actual married couple so close bothered him so much. He didn't have feelings for Lucius, and vice versa. Anyways, Lucius was married to Narcissa… They had a son together, for Merlins sake! He had a wife and son, yet he claimed Harry belonged to him! The claim of ownership still not sitting well with the slight teen…

 

Harry glanced from his hands twisting into the dark green fabric of his shirt back up to the couple, resolving that it wouldn't bother him, only to startle as he locked eyes with the man he had tried to avoid for several days now. In that instant, Harry felt himself flush, breathing a little harder than it was moments before. Lucius' face told nothing of his thoughts, and Harry was too far away to see anything in those eyes that refused to leave him. Harry finally managed to break eye contact and look away as Narcissa placed a hand on Lucius' shoulder, drawing his attention away from Harry and his fetching blush to the scroll she now held out to him. Lucius took the parchment with a nod before leaving her side to walk towards Harry who tried to look anywhere but at the tall man who approached with long strides.

 

Lucius didn't say a word as he passed, as Harry had feared, or by the disappointed feeling sinking in, maybe hoped he would. As Harry's face fell ever so slightly with that feeling of disappointment he felt the soft brush of fingers down his right wing tickling and soothing the feathers there. Lucius was gone by the time he spun around; face a bright red, eyes wide.

 

A soft laugh caught Harry's attention, drawing his gaze away from the open French doors back to the round bistro table where Narcissa sat with a pleased look on her face.

 

Harry moved forward, almost on automatic, taking the seat across for her as she smiled him. "Finally! I thought there would be no end to this dance of avoidance and agitation." Narcissa hummed happily serving Harry his tea, two sugars a dash of cream and honey just like he liked, before going to prepare her own.

 

"What?" Harry asked intelligently, eyes wide as she let out another soft laugh.

 

"The two of you have been driving poor Severus insane with all the avoiding on your part and agitation on Lucs," Narcissa went on to explain as she stirred her honey and crème into her own teacup. "I understand Lucius well enough to know the situation the two of you must have gotten into. Knowing him he's said something a bit to harsh. You'll have to overlook that; you see, he can't communicate gently like he should when dealing with certain matters and people. He comes across too harsh and cold even when he means to be soft and warm."

 

Harry just stared at the beautiful woman, who seemed to put quite a bit of thought into what must have happened between them.

 

"Personally, I think you are handling this situation rather well," Narcissa spoke softly, confidingly. "Lucius, for all his eagerness to find you, seems to be mucking things up, however."

 

"Eagerness?" Harry finally asked, the word slipping out before he can find the will in himself to stop it.

 

"Quite!" Narcissa said in an almost conspiratorial whisper. "You won't hear this from him, and he'll likely loathe me for telling you this, but sweet Harry, I think it would help move you into forgiving him and understanding the position you are in…" Narcissa took a dainty sip from her porcelain cup, eyeing Harry when he finally did the same. "We winged folk live by a rule set up eons ago by our forefathers, and one of those rules pertains to the perfect mate. For each of us born there is another that holds a piece of our essence inside their hearts. They are the one truly meant for us. We can live without that missing piece, but we are oft to grow distant and emotionally muted, much like Lucius, who has been suffering from that missing piece for far longer than I've known him. He's been missing you, his missing piece, and growing to resent the fact that he was not whole. Lucius and I were wed for the sake of an heir to his line. I was young and had yet to meet the one meant for me, so it seemed opportune, and who am I to refuse a proposal from a winged lord when I am no more attached." She paused then, eyeing a croissant, before breaking off a piece and placing it in her mouth, the warm buttery taste making her smile.

 

Harry didn't know what to say at first. This explained a lot, like a whole lot. Finally he started to speak, slowly, eyes falling to his all but forgotten tea. "So you and Severus are soul mates, but your married to Lucius because he'd already given up on finding his own soul mate." It wasn't a question, but Narcissa hummed and nodded in a way of agreement before swallowing her bit of pastry and dabbing at her peach painted lips with a napkin.

 

"Exactly! You're such a smart boy! And what a lovely word to describe what a true pair of us should be called. Poor Luc waited years before he decided it was time to marry. You see, a pair are normally no more than ten years or so different in age, some times fifteen and very rarely more than twenty."

 

"How cruel…" the words tumbled out of his mouth unbidden when it finally began to sink in. Lucius had looked for that missing piece that would keep him what Harry was going to call 'human' and never found it. He'd married out of priority, to a woman who probably found her own true mate not long after they were wed. In such a situation, no one could be truly happy. "It's not fair to you or Snape…"

 

"Or to Luc..." Narcissa said, in agreement. "Fate seems horribly cruel, at times. All we can do is stand strong against her and muddle through the best we can. With that said, how do you feel now?"

 

Harry thought for a moment before he answered as honest as he could be. "I still can't imagine that it would be me… to be honest… Why me? And why after so long…?"

 

"Indeed peculiar, but something about this stinks of sabotage." Narcissa's eyes narrowed as she mentioned 'sabotage' as if something like this were normal around her or perhaps her, well, their people. "We have no idea what line you are from, or who you really are… We can't find records on your birth, since all avian must register new babes as soon as it is seen that they hold the gene."

 

Suddenly Harry missed Hermione and her quick mind. He wondered, like he had everyday in the past weeks, how she was and if she was okay.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 27st 1996, 8:31 PM]_

 

"She told you then," a voice, gentle and deep making his wings quiver in recognition, came from the doorway that Harry hadn't noticed opening as he prepared for bed. He tried to control his surprise at seeing Lucius there, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, expression calm. The two of them hadn't been in the same room for more than five minutes over the last few days, and suddenly, there he was.

 

After gathering his wits about him, Harry quickly recovered from his surprise and did up the last few buttons of his shirt, missing the look in Lucius' eyes as they traced the last pale slivers of skin being shielded from view. "Yes," Harry answered, slowly, still looking down while working with his buttons. "If by 'told you then' you mean about the whole reason you're horribly mean to me one second and almost kind the next, then yes, kind of. I know about the whole soul mates thing, can barely believe it, but I do."

 

"How is Hermione?" Harry asked slowly, reworking a few wrongly done buttons from his nerves.

 

"The Granger girl? To my knowledge she is fine. Severus is going to check on her in the morning…"

 

"Good…"

 

Lucius made a deep humming sound, before easing away from the doorframe and entering the room, slowly closing the door behind him.

 

"I also know that no one seems to know who I am… Something that is more than a bit alarming every time I dare to think about it…"

 

"For now, don't think about it. Give us time; we are working on it," Lucius murmured as he took a seat on the edge of the bead before drawing Harry into his arms. Harry looked up surprised, heart beating faster as he saw Lucius' mouth curve into a reassuring smile. So they were back to this then, were they? Lucius being tactile and gentle, and Harry's heart and mind warring against whether he enjoyed the affection or not.

 

"We?" Harry's voice came out a lot softer than he had meant…

 

"Yes. Severus and I have been looking through the archives for weeks trying to find any clue as to who you were before you became Harry Potter and where you came from," Lucius explained, pressing his face close to Harry's quickly reddening one, nuzzling his hair and just breathing him in.

 

There was silence between them then, as Harry stood almost awkwardly between Lucius' knees as the man embraced him. "I'm sorry…" the words came out rough and awkward, like he wasn't used to saying them often, as Lucius pressed a small kiss to Harry's temple. Harry couldn't bring himself to try and get away; he just stood there frozen. "I was too harsh with you. I could have handled the situation better, but I didn't. I scared you, and for that I am sorry. I don't want you to hate me. I thought I could live with that at first, just as long as you were here with me, but I can't."

 

Harry turned his head to look at the man as he fell silent, heart leaping out of his chest as he realized they were still far too close, and his moving led him to sliding his lips along the mans cheek. Lucius turned the rest of the way, and before he knew it and could think of any reasons why he shouldn't do it, their lips met chastely.

 

Harry's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, enjoying the feel of a kiss so different from all the ones that came before (so very few there were). Lucius didn't push for more than the slide of their lips together, seeming pleased with the lack of rejection on Harry's part, before pulling the young man closer. While one hand splayed across his lower back the other rose to cup his soft warm cheek before Lucius broke the kiss moving away just enough for him to stare down into Harry's face.

 

Harry's eyes opened slowly when he felt Lucius pull away, only to find him still there, staring at him with confused silver eyes and a small content smile. The man came forward again, kissing him softly before murmuring against his lips, "I don't want to be a beast with you… You make me feel alive… You make me feel human…"

 

~To Be Continued~


	12. Subterfudge

_~Seeking Truths in the Valley of Lies~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 12:15 PM]_

 

Lunch at Malfoy Manor the day after Harry and Lucius's sweet reconciliation, as Harry will continue to call it until the warm butterflies no longer swarm in his stomach at the thought of that moment when they had settled into something that felt right and almost familiar, was an awkward occasion indeed.

 

Draco was back, preparing for a trip to Diagon Alley for last minute school shopping, which had Harry biting his lip in agitation. There was a question burning to be asked, but he was afraid that it would ruin whatever peace seemed to settle between himself and Lucius. For all his protesting against this 'thing' seemingly between them he'd really hate to go back to avoiding the man when his body wanted nothing less than constant contact, which he wasn't comfortable to admit or give in to… yet…

 

He wanted to go back to school… He knew that the Un-Harry would be there, but still, he wanted… And a part of him knew that Lucius wouldn't be receptive to such a request, not now, maybe not for a while yet, but he still felt the urge to just ask the question sitting on the tip of his tongue waiting for the most inopportune moment to make itself known.

 

In addition, Snape had stopped by with any information he had found on who Harry might really be, which was nothing more than they already had, leaving them still with nothing but more questions. Harry tried to keep a neutral face as the Potions Master reported before surprisingly turning to him with an apology for the lack of answers, something that Harry could have never imagined happening before he had been made aware of this man's particular caring side that was present only around Narcissa. Harry found himself thanking the man, and meaning it, although they were no further than they had been when this had all started.

 

Snape was promptly invited to join them by an ever placid Lucius, but Harry caught the worry in those silver eyes as they turned to regard him when the older man thought he wasn't looking. It was odd being the recipient of such treatment, but Harry pretended he hadn't noticed and forced down any disappointment he felt on the lack of information.

 

As the house elves set the table for lunch they all took their seats, Lucius at his rightful seat at the head of the table with Harry at his right and Draco to his left. Narcissa sat next to Harry, with Severus across the table next to Draco. Severus, Draco and Lucius had just fallen into a conversation about the start of the new school year and how Dumbledore had still yet to hire replacements for a few courses when Mitty, the house elf that normally served Narcissa and Harry breakfast in the mornings, appeared in the space next to Lucius' chair with a soft pop. Words were exchanged between master and servant, too quiet for any to hear before Lucius rose from his chair smoothly excusing himself and Severus from the table before the two left the room in the direction of the foyer.

 

"Do you think they've finally found something?" Draco asked, being the first to break the silence that had settled on the room, all three of them undoubtedly curious.

 

"Perhaps, but I don't know…" Narcissa said, brows drawing together slightly as she reached under the table for Harry's hand almost without thought.

 

Harry had seen the look on Lucius' face when he'd received whatever message Mitty

had delivered, and it hadn't been a pleasant one. Nerves settled low in Harry's stomach like a heavy stone but he kept his mouth shut least he let them here his doubts. Whatever was going on, it didn't seem good.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; August 28st 1996, 12:15 PM]_

 

The next day found Hermione silently sitting in the Weasley's study with a worn copy of a birth registry of some sort laid out in her lap as she curiously study each page before flipping to the next. This is how Bill found her three hours later.

 

"What's got you so interested all of a sudden? I've watched you listlessly turning the pages of that old bestiary for the last several days and here you are looking brighter than I've seen you since you've gotten here," Bill said as he flopped down on the old dusty study sofa next to her.

 

"I don't know; I just feel like I'm finally getting somewhere. I don't know how to explain it, but I think that this book has the answers," Hermione replied without even looking up from the pages, causing Bill to lean in closer to inspect this tome that held so many answers to her secrets.

 

"That's the birth registry…" Bill murmured softly, before slowly prying it from her fingers and turning it over cautiously to study the cover as if hoping he were mistaken.

 

"Is it really?" Hermione asked, looking as if she were about to protest his commandeering of her book. "It's a very odd birth registry," she said hoping he would indulge her with an answer as to why it were so different from any birth registry she'd come across till now.

 

"Yes, odd…" he said distractedly, before turning stern brown eyes on her. "Where did you find this, Hermione?"

 

"On that shelf over there next to the window... Bill…?" Hermione tried to wait patiently for him to explain why his family had such an odd registry, but it was getting very difficult. She felt as if she tittered on the edge of the truth, and it was hard not pushing herself over that edge. Bill had her answers, all this time. Could he tell her if she asked, or would he avoid any questions she tried asking?

 

"I… This…" He tried, staring at the old leather covering of the book dating back many years with detailed and informative recordings of births going back many centuries. The exceptional part of this was that they were all to a race of avian like fai.

 

"Bill… I know about… them…" Hermione spoke slowly, hoping this would get the ball rolling on a hopefully inevitable conversation.

 

"You… you know? How?" Bill questioned, turning wide eyes back on her.

 

"I said my summer was eventful," Hermione said, refusing to give more until she knew for certain that she was right, and Bill had something to do with these avian like she suspected.

 

"Yes, you did say that," Bill's eyes narrowed slightly as a small smile tilted his lips almost like he was pleased by her words. "I really shouldn't be surprised that you would gain knowledge of this. It's a well-kept secret, or well, it was."

 

~To Be Continued~


	13. Stratagem

_~Belief in a Lie So Beautifully Spun~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 12:28 PM]_

 

Severus returned shortly after the two departed, only telling the other occupants of the table that an unexpected visitor had dropped by and that Harry was needed in the study. The man refused to meet Harry's questioning eyes as he sought them out for some kind of explanation; he just continued to glare down at his empty plate which barely hid his distress.

 

No one said anything as Harry slowly rose from his chair. Lunch would begin without them it seemed, as the house elves started serving. Harry caught Narcissa's worried gaze and gave a small smile as he left the room in search of the study. He'd been there before, of course; it was just difficult remembering the way in such an excessively large house. He'd be lying if he said he weren't nervous and maybe just a bit scared.

 

When he finally found his way to the closed door of the study it seemed to take minutes for him to draw up the courage to knock, silencing the murmur of voices from within. The door was drawn open slowly to reveal Lucius standing there. Harry peered past him, shocked and confused as his eyes landed on the other occupant of the room who was still seated in a plush armchair beside the unlit fireplace.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[The Burrow, Devon, England; August 28st 1996, 3:20 PM]_

"This is our family's biggest secret, you have to understand that Hermione. So, I need you to be honest with me when I ask how you know about this," Bill started, eyes watching Hermione's face closely as she thought out how best to answer him.

 

"Well, I suppose I should start out at the beginning… I was on my way here when I felt like something was wrong and went to check on Harry, but when I got there something was horribly wrong, and then there was Lucius Malfoy, except he was even more magnificent and grand, with great white wings and molten eyes; he saved us that night. I owe that man my life now, and I swore I'd keep the secret…"

 

"Wait… wait just one minute before you continue," Bill said looking at her clearly startled. "You found out about this through Lucius Malfoy? That seems highly unbelievable." At her look he amended quickly, "Highly unbelievable, but I believe you, of course."

 

"Well, yes, I don't think he'd planned on his night going quite like that either. Harry was dying, and I'm sure it would have killed him if it weren't for Lucius. Like I said, he saved us. After we were safe he wouldn't tell me more than what I'd already witnessed, only that he was sure I'd figure it out on my own in my own time," Hermione said, folding her hands in her lap hoping that she hadn't made a mistake by telling this all to Bill.

 

"He saved you? That may be the most unbelievable part of this whole thing. Once again, I add that I believe you; it's just all so unbelievable; the main reason being Lucius Malfoy's pure distaste for the human race. It's not an unfounded thing, no matter what you may be thinking, he does have his reason. I think he may have been the most disappointed on the day that Harry Potter was born with the blood of his mother instead of the divine blood that sets us apart from others," Bill explained slowly, looking down at his own spread fingers after setting the registry down onto the coffee table before them. "Did he say why he'd come? How he'd known to be there?"

 

"No, but I just know it had to be because of Harry," Hermione said in response, eyes slowly starting to tear up at thought of her battered and beaten friend lying almost lifeless on the cold floor with that thing looming over him. "Oh Bill, it was horrible. Harry almost died and I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch as that thing smiled wickedly at me knowing that that would be how it would end. It would kill Harry and then me and no one would have ever known."

 

"Hermione, Harry isn't Harry is he?" Bill asked, looking up from his hands as he turned back to face her before reaching out to clasp her trembling hands in his own.

 

"No… That thing isn't my Harry…" It felt so good to say the words aloud, to be able to finally tell someone the biggest secret she held. It also hurt. It was physical pain residing deep in her chest. It felt like a fist had wrapped around her heart and was attempting to keep her silent with the pain of its tightening grip. "My Harry is an angel…" She managed to finish in a gasping breath.

 

"Hermione…!" Bill moved his hands from hers to wrap his arms around her and draw her closer, letting her lean on his chest. It was a comfort she hadn't known she needed. The grip on her heart tightened further but she felt content there, and perhaps the truth was worth the pain.

 

"Wait, you said Harry was an angel?" Bill whispered the question into her hair, and all she could do was nod. "That's impossible," Bill concluded, pulling away to look at her shocked. "You saw Harry change into an avian with your own eyes?"

 

"Yes," Hermione couldn't understand why this was the part that Bill was stuck on and a bit disappointed that she was now held at arm's length.

 

"That's impossible…" Bill murmured to himself as he released her to reach back for the book on the table before them. "Harry Potter, the only son born to James Potter, an avian lord, and Lily Evans, a human, was born human."

 

"But, he was there, covered in cuts and blood, but still very much not human with wings of the inkiest black…" Hermione said slowly.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 12:31 PM]_

 

"So it's true…" Dumbledore sounded so sad as he looked at Harry and all but sighed the words as he got to his feet. He looked tired; the usual twinkle in his eyes barely a dim reminder of what use to be found there. He looked far older than Harry had ever seen him. "Harry m'boy, I'm so sorry…"

 

Harry looked from Dumbledore to the stoic expression on Lucius' face. "What's going on? Lucius?"

 

"Just listen…" was all Lucius said before ushering Harry inside the room and onto the leather sofa. Lucius took the seat next to him after securely closing the door. He was silent, but still Harry found his presence comforting in this moment of confusion.

 

"You'll have to excuse me professor, I don't know what's going on here..." Harry said slowly, watching the old man take his seat again. "How can you even recognize me? Why aren't you surprised?"

 

"Oh, Harry… I don't know where to start or what I should say. Seeing you like this is, well, expected," Dumbledore said slowly, alluding to what more he knew on this situation than the other two occupants of the room. "I'd checked the Forbidden Forest, but still, I refused to believe my own eyes and instincts. I'd hoped that it wasn't true, but seeing you now like this just proves all my fears have come true."

 

"Dumbledore…" Harry started, but a calming hand slowly wrapped around his own that was slowly clenched in his pajama pants. Now asking about returning to school seemed the pettiest thing in light of the situation that was unfolding.

 

"You have to understand that I never meant for any of this to happen. Lord Lucius has already informed of the state he had found you, and you will never know how much that knowledge now pains me. It was never supposed to have gone this way. We had hidden you with the best of intentions."

 

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Lucius mused aloud, and this allowed Harry to pick up on the barely concealed anger simmering just below the surface of Lucius's calm demeanor. Something horrible seemed to be going on, and Harry was once again found in the middle of it all.

 

Dumbledore visibly cringed at the comment as if admonished. Nodding his head, he conceded to the statement with as much grace he could muster in the aftermath of so many well-meaning bad ending decisions made so far in the past. "So much truth lie in those words, I cannot even begin to deny them. We'd hidden a teen away on the cusp of man-hood to find him turned a babe, all for a greater good that I begin to find myself no longer believing in. All these plans we make hurt too many people. Who are we saving if we hurt those that mean the most to us? By the gods, and Merlin himself, you were my godson, and I so readily agreed to trap you in abyss of unnatural making."

 

"What…?" Harry couldn't help but say dumbly. This was so much more than finding himself placed as an alternate in the place of the real Harry Potter, which is one of the many theories he'd dreamed up since finding out he was not in fact the real Harry Potter. A low rumbling vibration started beside Harry drawing his eyes to Lucius who now clearly showed the anger that he had kept so closely under check.

 

"What are you talking about old man? What. Did. You. Do?" Lucius's voice was cold and flat, and Harry found himself squeezing the hand in his lap trying to calm this man who seemed to be getting angry on his behalf.

 

"You are, indeed Harry Potter, but your parents were not James and Lily Potter." Dumbledore took a steadying deep breath before continuing. "You were born the first child to the late and great Lord Everett Potter and Lady Bedillia Potter, avian of very high standing, on July the 31st, 1956. Your younger brother, James, was born March 27th, 1960. Later he would have a human son with Lily Evans, born on the very day of your birth, in 1980. The baby would be named, Harry James Potter, after you as an honor to a brother who was no longer with him..."

 

Harry could feel Lucius stiffen next to him, as Dumbledore spoke of the past, his past, as he felt himself be swallowed up by a deep mere of confusion. This wasn't his life… it couldn't be… it just couldn't be…

 

"You were so young… You still had downy grey wings when we discovered the prophecy that would lead to your downfall and the downfall to all of your avian brethren. When you came of age, you'd fall into the hands of a dark wizard who would use you and the power you would bring him to rule and ruin the world as we know it. Your parents were terrified. They could not bear to see something so horrible happen to their precious first born, so we worked out a plan of action. Through my connections with the centaur tribe located in the Forbidden Forest a unique fai device was brought to my attention. It is often called a changeling cupboard, used to house potential changeling till their new homes have been decided. You were to be kept there until the threat had passed and the dark lord that was sure to be your keeper destroyed. Your parents did not live to see the day when the one know known as Voldemort fell, and those of us still keeping the secret of your whereabouts feared that his reign was far from over so you stayed hidden away. Or at least, you were until something changed. Someone had switched you with your own nephew, and I was too stupid and far sighted to notice, that is until now when it is so painful and blaringly obvious. I fear that danger is eminent, and I have failed you and your parents. I can only hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this stupid old man…"

 

And suddenly Harry could feel it; the pressure of memory and a life that was but was no longer his pressing down upon him. The smiling faces of parents that loved him, a younger brother who looked up to him, a blonde playmate who teased him for being two years his younger, and wizened old eyes lit up with pride clouded his mind, bringing tears to his eyes. That had been his life once. Those had been the people who had meant the most to him. It was so different from his life as Harry James Potter, so tender and gentle and loving and warm, all he could do was cry. Everything he had ever dreamed of had been everything he had once had. And once again, this was all due to one Lord Voldemort, formally known as Tom Marvalo Riddle.

 

Harry couldn't breathe; the room seemed far too small, lacking enough air to fill his lungs. As his vision began to blur, he caught sight of Lucius's face creased with worry as his lips parted in what could have been the form of Harry's name as darkness pressed around him.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 3:20 PM]_

 

Harry awoke in Lucius's room, tucked securely into the curve of Lucius's body, face nestled into the warm fleshy gentle slope of the man's neck. He could tell that Lucius was awake and alert by the hands that still soothed between agitated wings.

 

"How long have I been out?" he croaked, throat dry.

 

"Almost three hours." Lucius's voice came soft and warm, just as gentle as his hands that refused to still their gentle circles on his back.

 

"The other's must be worried…" Harry murmured into Lucius's collar bone, distress at the hour welling up in his chest. He didn't want to worry them. Just because he found out his whole entire life up until this point in time truly was a lie and he was someone entirely different and born some time ago didn't mean they had to suffer through any of it by his unexplained disappearance. Narcissa was no doubt worried, without him there to explain that he'd be okay and that it was fine. He'd be fine.

 

No… He couldn't lie to himself.

 

He wouldn't be fine. His life wasn't his life. He'd stolen it from his very own nephew none the less. And no small part of him was grateful for that. He'd saved someone else from the life he'd had to live up until now.

 

"They will understand," Lucius said softly, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

 

"Will they? Because I sure as hell don't…" Harry hissed in anger, at what he wasn't sure, welled up inside of him as he pushed against Lucius' chest. Perhaps it was anger at Dumbledore and his parents for doing such a stupid thing to try and save him. Perhaps it was at himself for the self-pity he still tried to keep at bay, because really, why did shit always have to happen to him? Perhaps it was at Voldemort, because of him his lives, both of them had been nothing but ruin and pain. Or maybe it was even at Lucius for not recognizing him, even if it had been so very long. "You didn't even recognize me!" was what his mouth decided to go with as he struggled further out of an embrace meant for a lover, someone dear and cared for.

 

He was more than a bit ashamed of himself for this being the thing his brain latched on to. But now, after remembering, he clearly could see Lucius as he once was, a boy only two years his elder, with dazzling silver eyes, soft close shorn platinum locks and soft downy grey wings. He could remember how those wings had molted and turned white like pure newly driven snow and how Lucius had teased him about his still soft stormy grey 'baby' feathers. He could remember how close they were, how happy they had been. It was a bit odd to see how much he had changed, but Harry could still feel the old Lucius there, still playfully waiting buried deep under the hard surface that Lucius had built up over the years that had happened between then and now. Harry didn't know what had made him change, but he didn't like it, not one bit.

 

"I have no excuses except for one being you are so very different from then, my dearest friend, and two being that it has been well over twenty years since I had last seen you. If you do recall, which by your indignation, I can only imagine that you do, you were still a petite wisp of a thing who still hadn't lost his baby feathers." Lucius smiled slowly, his words light and teasing before he became silent, and his eyes gained a faraway look. "That was the last time I saw you, you know. That summer you came to stay at the villa with me and my parents. You were going to that awful French school, and I'd go back to Hogwarts. We played outside under the sun all day, every day hoping the summer wouldn't end. Wings stretched to the sky; free, like we were meant to be. We were happy… I was happy…"

 

"Did you know then…?" Harry spoke softly, afraid to shatter whatever memory Lucius was lost in.

 

"That you were meant for me?" Lucius asked for clarification, and Harry nodded. "Not back then. I was young, and when we are young we have all sorts of thoughts. I may have hoped, and when you disappeared it may have destroyed any peace that I had ever hoped to attain during this lifetime. The older I got, and the longer I waited, the more I came to realize that it was you, it would always be you. I'd never have you, and I'd never be satisfied as long as I couldn't. I'd long since set myself up for a life lacking the one thing we all need, until that night when I felt you. I knew that it couldn't be you, but that whoever was calling out to me was mine none the less. I'll admit to some disappointment on my part, because I'd always thought that you were meant for me, no one else, especially not some other Potter boy who had supposedly been born lacking the heritage passed down through the years from most fathers to their sons. I suppose the heart I gave up long ago knows me better than I know myself, because it beat for you then and beats for you now."

 

As Lucius grew quiet again just staring at Harry in an open look of awe and wonder, Harry felt his anger abate, at least for the moment; any and all for this man, disappearing in the small distance between them, vanishing like bad nightmares, replaced by the warmness of good dreams and happy memories.

 

~To Be Continued~


	14. Regard

_~They Can See It All Too Clear~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 6:00 PM]_

 

Harry and Lucius had spent the rest of the evening sharing tales of the past. Lucius was clearly surprised and pleased by how much Harry seemed to recall so suddenly, often just listening to Harry talking about how much of a prat Lucius had been to him when they were younger, finding himself smiling fondly at his mate despite the put out expression Harry kept giving him in regard for the subject. It was all so uncharacteristically sweet and domestic of him, but Lucius couldn't find himself the mind to care, just so very happy for the first time in so many years that this was his. This was his future.

 

"Ah, I have something for you. It should make things easier until you learn how to conceal yourself better. Consider it a late birthday present," Lucius said, leaning over to take a box from his bedside table, which he promptly placed in Harry's lap as he reclined back against the pillows to watch him. It was a thin box, with a removable lid, much like one that would hold jewelry, made from polished black wood.

 

Harry gently removed the lid, not overly frightened of what he might find within, just a bit surprised that Lucius was giving him a gift for his birthday. Inside, on black velvet bedding rested a simple silver whoop bracelet with a single silver charm. As Harry removed the bracelet gently from its previous home he looked closely at the silver little swan that's attention to detail was altogether astounding for something so small and fragile looking.

 

"It's beautiful…" Harry spoke softly, eyes still tracing over the lovely gift.

 

"You like it then?" Lucius smiled at him, a genuine warm happy smile. "Put it on, you might find you like it even more."

 

And Harry did just that. The bracelet seemed to magically resize itself once he got it on his wrist, and then there was a tingling sensation at his back and ears. It took one glance at Lucius to know what had happened. "I'm wingless…!"

 

"Alas, you look human again. If it's troublesome we can just take that back off and…"

 

"No!" Harry said quickly, placing a hand on the bracelet before Lucius could remove it. Harry looked up to see Lucius' teasing smile. "It's nice to be like this sometimes, right?" Harry asked unsure, almost feeling like his eagerness to be rid of the things that made him more than human would be seen as an insult to the older avian, but Lucius just smiled back at him.

 

"This world is hard for our kind, so being less than extraordinary for the general public is necessary."

 

"So you don't mind…?" Harry asked slowly.

 

"I'll miss the feathers, and those cute little ears, but you still look like you despite the loss. We are more than what sets us apart from mankind, and no concealment charm placed on a bracelet will change that." Lucius said warmly, fingers tracing over the silver band gently.

 

Harry relaxed under the words, and from there the conversation steered back to when they were children and how Harry had had a ring that his parents had given him that also helped him conceal his uniqueness while he was away at school.

 

When the lateness of the hour chimed from the large ornate clock near the door connected to the on suite bath, Harry was reminded he hadn't ate since morning as his stomach gave a low rumble after the clock fell silent. Lucius' laugh was low and warm, making heat pool in Harry's empty belly, as a blush also rose to his cheeks. It was a nice sound, Lucius' laugh, happy and welcome. Lucius swooped in for one last kiss, lips chastely brushing Harry's as he untangled them from the sheets before taking Harry's hand and pulling him from the bed altogether. So many things seemed to have changed so quickly, but this felt right, like this was how it was always supposed to be. Harry tried not to dwell on what had led to this; he just wanted to savor these moments, this moment, for as long as he could.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 6:05 PM]_

 

Bill Weasley stood before Malfoy Manor, Hermione's hand clutched warmly in his left as he reached up to knock on the large black door before them. Even though he'd had time to think everything over since Hermione had told him, he still wasn't sure how he should go about speaking with his avian better on such a touchy subject, that is, if Lucius allowed them entry. The whole time he'd known the man, he'd never seemed overly kind or patient.

 

Bill pulled his hand back in surprise, giving Hermione's a quick squeeze with his other, as the door was pulled open to reveal the avian lord in question; a petite dark haired young man stood a step behind him to his left. Bill saw the unmistakable smile that curled the corners of Lucius Malfoys lips ever so slightly before it was replaced with a mask of passive indifference. The small males smile only widened as vibrant green eyes fell on Hermione. He moved around the still motionless Lucius Malfoy, meeting Hermione on the top step as she released Bill's hand to move forward. The two embraced without words, and it all kind of clicked for Bill. This was Harry.

 

Harry pulled back first, staring at Hermione as his face slowly creased in worry. "Hermione, what's wrong? You look…so pale…"

 

Before Hermione could speak, Lucius moved to place a firm hand on Harry's shoulder, slightly easing him back to his side. Bill recognized the action immediately and bit the inside of his cheek to keep the smirk from touching his lips. He was already so overly protective of this young man, so clearly fond and smitten with those bright eyes and dark tresses. Lucius' sharp eyes stared straight at Bill, as if sensing his thoughts, who fought to squirm under the scrutiny. "Come, we'll be dining in the study. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, it would please us both greatly if you would join us." His tone left little option to declining the offer, but it was Hermione that had him agreeing to the arrangement as she looked back to Bill with wide and hopeful eyes, it was all he could do to accept, loving the way she smiled at him. It was looking back to Lucius that Bill realized that the man's smirk had mirrored the one he had tried to hide just seconds ago. He was no better at hiding these feelings and instincts than the older man was.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 6:15 PM]_

 

The four of them sat quietly in Lucius' study as the House Elves worked on setting up a small light dinner for four, before Lucius sent them away with a message to Narcissa that they would not be joining herself and Draco in the main dining room due to prior engagement.

 

Hermione thankfully didn't comment on her views of House Elves, to both Bill and Harry's relief. That clashing of opinion and morals was something neither of them wanted to be present for, if it ever happened.

 

"I brought us here as soon as Hermione told me what had happened and we could find a moment to slip away from the family. To be honest, I'm more curious about that creature that is masquerading as our Harry and what he did to Hermione, and anything other than her health isn't really my business." Bill finally broke the silence, after each of them had ate their fill and a nice lavender tea had been poured, only to wish he had waited for someone to start with a much softer subject. But time was short, and he was in need of answers.

 

"Hmmm, that creature is staying with your parents, I understand," Lucius said, eyes regarding Bill slowly scrutinizing. "I can't say I'm overly pleased with your knowledge of what has occurred, but neither am I angry that it is you. Of the Weasley brood you are to represent your father if anything ever happens and he can no longer fill his position as lord of your family heritage. I also feel that you will prove much more level headed on the subject of the imposter than your father. And I agree, Miss Granger is your business; the rest does not concern you.

 

"So, Hermione…" Bill began, but Lucius stopped him with a raised hand.

 

"She has been marked by that creature. Severus and I believe him to be a golem, a construct of magic and matter. We haven't discovered who controls him, or why he was created, just that he has marked Miss Granger, and there isn't much we can do about that because we do not know of any known countermeasures to such a thing. He is remarkably powerful for a made creature, so whoever created him is highly likely to be quite adept in magic, especially the kind dealing with life and death. It wouldn't surprise me that for a creature that powerful there is a continuous supply of magic being feed into him from either his creator or an artifact of some kind used in aiding his creation." Bill nodded, face a bit downcast, because really none of this was good news. Hermione sat silently beside him for a second, deciding now was not a time to show how weak those words made her feel, before swiftly changing the subject.

 

"So you two seem rather close," Hermione mused, eyes crinkling at the edges. "Quite amazing really, how fast that happened."

 

"Quite… The speed of which things occur may seem different from another's perspective. Harry is my mate, Miss Granger, we don't choose them, but neither do we have the will to find a reason as to why they should not be, something that I'm sure Mr. Weasley can help you understand far more easily than myself, once the two of you have gone. You have been marked by something other, which is something you can fight at the risk of your own health, because it is unnatural to be marked by someone who isn't meant for you," Lucius replied politely, not yet ready to reveal to the two who Harry really was, and one glance at Harry proved the boy wasn't ready for that yet either.

 

"I see… Do you plan on marrying him then? Harry's only just turned sixteen, and Wizard Law states that he isn't an adult until he is seventeen, not to mention you are already married," Hermione asked in all curiosity, sounding very much like a prying mother to her own ears, trying to stay as far away from her own predicament for now as possible, more for Bill's sake than her own. And speaking of Bill, Lucius seemed to have some suspicions of his own concerning the red head and her own relationship, which was purely friendly. She wouldn't dare hope for more, not with the way things seemed to look for her imminent future. A part of her feared she wouldn't survive this, and another supplied her with the knowledge that even if she did, Bill may not like what she might become.

 

"Hermione…!" Harry squeaked almost chocking on his tea, scalding his tongue in the process.

 

Perhaps he should have just told her to distract her from her current course… Lucius thought before responding. "Even though that is none of your concern, Miss Granger, Narcissa and I have been properly divorced for well over three weeks. The paperwork was revised just recently to set her dowry for when she wishes to remarry. I assure you, my intentions are not untoward. I plan to marry Mr. Potter when the eyes of the Wizarding World deem it proper, which will be after he graduates from Hogwarts. He will be well over seventeen and an adult in the eyes of Wizard Law." Lucius spoke smoothly before placing his own cup of tea to his lips and drinking in a smooth unbothered motion while Harry's face grew red from embarrassment and a bit of anger. They hadn't even talked about such things and yet it all seemed to be decided without him.

 

Wait. Graduate. Hogwarts.

 

"I'm going back to school!?" Harry gasped out, setting his tea aside so he didn't accidently spill it all over himself, or Merlin forbid, Lucius. He really wanted to face the marriage issue angrily, but school had been on his mind for some time now, and it seemed like the much more pressing issue.

 

Lucius looked over at him, eyes narrowing with amusement as if he could clearly read Harry's thoughts as if they were his own before he spoke on the subject. "Yes. Dumbledore, in an inability to find someone so short notice to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, has asked me to attend the position. I accepted, in anticipation of your planning to return to school for your sixth year whether I give my approval or not. Since I had already decided to allow it once you did finally ask, I saw this as a perfect opportunity to make sure you stayed safe and to keep an eye on the construct."

 

Harry was so surprised by the knowledge that Lucius had been thinking of him and what he might want that he was struck speechless with the feeling of gratitude and unadulterated joy. It must have clearly shown on his face how much this decision pleased him, whether it was made concerning him or not, so much so that Lucius had to glance away before he did something inappropriate and uncharacteristic in front of company, something like, Merlin forbid, kiss the boy.

 

"I'm sure parents are going to love this," Bill mused, almost humorlessly, easily betrayed by the amusement barely kept at bay.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

As they finished their tea and headed down to the foyer, ready to call it a night, Lucius pulled Bill to the side while Hermione went to hug Harry goodbye.

 

"William…" Lucius spoke in a low voice so not to be overheard. "I was being honest in my statement about not being overly disappointed about your knowledge of the situation. I am more than certain the day will come, sooner rather than later, when you will have to take up the reigns your father will choose to abandon, and when that time comes, I feel that you are more than capable of fulfilling your duties to our kind and your family." Lucius watched as Bill tried not to flush under the somewhat praise. "That being said, I think I may have some idea of how you can be of help to young Miss Granger. I didn't mention it earlier because it is something that only you can decide upon. I won't presume that she is your mate, but it doesn't take any real scrutiny to see you're sweet on the girl, so maybe you'll find this suggestion worth your time. It's something you already seem to be doing, really, but the more time and affection you show that girl the slower the bond builds between them. She's fighting it, and it's putting her in the state she's in now, but believe my words when I tell you she would be much worse if you weren't by her side. If not for your presence, she might have already given in to it by now."

 

Bill was silent for a beat before he began to nod. Glancing over at Hermione before back at Lucius, Bill slowly responded his eyes and words honest to his King. "She's my everything, and it's killing me to sit here and watch as she suffers and I can't do anything to stop that suffering. It helps to know that me being here does have meaning and brings some relief, even if it's not much." He paused, to think over his next question. "Are you certain there is no way to break this link he has forged with her? I'm not generally one to suggest such a thing, but can't it be broken if he dies?"

 

"I don't know…" Lucius said, eyes settling on the two teenagers. It pained him to not have the answers to help in this situation. There has been bad blood between the Weasley's and the Malfoy's, but they are still his people (for the most part), and Bill isn't responsible for past indiscretions. "I fear what would happen if the bond weren't broken by the one that forged it, or if it is even possible. Also, Severus and I can't find a single scroll on how one goes about dismantling a golem… It seems that that isn't as common knowledge as making one…"

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

Hermione hugged Harry tightly, trying to keep herself from tearing up. Much like the last time she had left him in Lucius's care, she wasn't overly worried for his wellbeing. Lucius' heart shown so clearly in his eyes, even she was surprised it wasn't something she had imagined. Lucius Malfoy, born a prince to his people, was in love with her Harry, and she didn't think that either of them had even realized.

 

There was something else going on here, as well. She had realized this when they'd all settled in the study to eat. The easiness that Harry seemed to now have around Lucius was astounding and something that generally came with years of having known someone; the same was reflected in the way Lucius treated Harry. The affection that had settled between them was like that that had been built up years in the making, not something that just pops up overnight or a few weeks. They were hiding something, something they weren't ready to share, and she wasn't going to press it. Harry was her best friend, and that wouldn't change no matter what he looked like now, or happened to be racially; he'd tell her when he felt it was time she knew, until then she'd wait semi patiently, and maybe pry and pick at Lucius a bit more, which was surprisingly more fun and less frightening than she would have thought; also, a bit of light teasing never hurt.

 

"I'll be seeing you at school," Hermione said, squeezing his neck lightly before releasing him from her embrace. "Just think, we'll be able to spend every day together in just four days," Hermione paused, lowering her voice so not to be overheard she added, "And you can tell me everything that has been going on with you and your overprotective dashing husband-to-be."

 

"Hermione!" Harry did a not so manly squeak in protest of her words before glancing over at the topic of conversation. "There isn't anything to tell!" he hissed, looking back to her, face blushing a bright red.

 

"Isn't there?" Hermione asked, but didn't wait for more protests, "Well, it has only been a few weeks… and I imagine that it took you most of them to even stand being in the same room as him… I suppose you can't move these mate things to fast…" She was teasing him now, and it was just so adorable watching Harry get all flustered over her words. "But just think, he divorced his beautiful wife for you, so you know he's serious about the mates thing, so maybe you shouldn't go too slow, I mean, that's only if you feel something for him." She couldn't suppress her grin at Harry's scandalized look.

 

"It's not like that!" Harry whispered harshly, face turning an even brighter shade of red. "I mean, yes, we sleep in the same room, the same bed really, but there isn't… we wouldn't… he… I…!"

 

"Oooo, the same bed, naughty. Seems things are moving," her grin widened as he got even more flustered.

 

"No! We don't do anything…!" Harry was beat red with his denial, and maybe a bit of it was untrue, but she wasn't going to call him out on it. "You're starting to sound like Ginny!" Harry finally declared loudly, embarrassed and exasperated, drawing the attention of the two men who seemed to be finishing up their own quite conversation about far more serious things, Hermione was sure.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 28st 1996, 11:39 PM]_

 

"Are you alright?" Lucius asked slowly, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at Harry who lay stiffly beside him. He and Harry had retired to his – their – room shortly after seeing their two visitors off. Since that time Harry had become quite and looked as if something was troubling him. The younger male worried his bottom lip with sharp white teeth, eyes closed tightly as he seemed to be trying to focus on his breathing. Lucius placed a hand on Harry's cheek smiling warmly as those ever too green eyes blinked open to the touch and Harry leaned into it.

 

"No… I'm terrified that this isn't real, and that it is. That nothing is over, and everything is just beginning," Harry mused aloud. Eyes full of a myriad of emotions. "I'm afraid that everything will just get worse, and there won't be a better. You saw Hermione, how sick she is; which is also something I should be mad at you for but can't find the necessary strength required to lay blame. I understand, but that still doesn't make it okay. And then I'm afraid the time will come when you decide you might not want me, that I'm not worth all the trouble that is bound to happen, because it always does…"

 

In one swift motion, Harry found Lucius hovering over him, his hands pressed into the bed with Lucius' larger ones holding them captive on each side of his head. "That, you realize, will never happen. This, what we have, isn't something we can just decide that we don't want; that we don't feel. This, us, we will exist far beyond the time the last breath leaves those lips of yours or my own. This bond, our connection, far surpasses reason, time, and feelings."

 

Without any further warning Lucius leaned down, causing Harry's mind to blank as his larger body covered over his own smaller form, blanketing him in a heavy comforting warmth. Lucius kissed him with a tenderness that almost made him cry, and maybe he would have if he hadn't felt the arousal of the virile male, pressed against his hip. Instead of embarrassment he felt want surge strongly throughout his body, causing him to moan between kisses, eyes shuttered to half mast, intoxicated by the feelings of wanting and being wanted in return.

 

"So you plan to marry me," Harry found himself saying dazedly as he wiggled against Lucius, causing more friction, and gaining a growl from his mate who nipped at an ear in retaliation.

 

"When the time comes, yes," Lucius murmured against his ear, voice low and laced with an almost growl. "Is that a problem?"

 

"No, not at all, no problems here…" Harry murmured, thinking on it for less than a second before smiling softly to himself. "To tell the truth, it's nothing less than what I'd always wanted from you."

 

"Harry…" Lucius spoke his name as he stared down at the flushing teen with wonder and awe. His eyes were warm with feelings that Harry couldn't bring himself to name just yet. And perhaps things were moving too fast, and perhaps he shouldn't feel so strongly for this man as he did, but blame his biology and blame their past, but damnit, he loved this man.

 

It was Harry who surged up, capturing Lucius's lips. A smirk lit on his face as he pulled back, resting his head on his pillow once more, proud of the surprise he found on Lucius' face. "Lucius…"

 

"You're a wicked little minx," Lucius murmured, giving Harry's wrists each a firm little squeeze still captured on the pillow to each side of Harry's head.

 

Harry got drunk on those kisses, on the sweetness of Lucius' words. They didn't speak words of love, but the tenderness of it all implied as much. It was too soon, yet not soon enough, for Harry. He'd loved Lucius since he was a child old enough to understand the difference between the way he felt for his family and the way he'd felt for the older boy. It'd been his first bit of heartbreak when his mother sat him down and warned him that they may not be written in the stars and that one day Lucius would have to love someone else as would Harry. He'd cried himself to sleep that night, refusing to believe that he'd ever stop loving Lucius. Maybe, if she could see him now, maybe not right this very inopportune moment, but in general, she would be happy that her warning wasn't necessary.

 

And as Lucius swept Harry away in feelings, old and new, the moon shone through the tall bay window facing the garden, catching off the silver swan that dangled from Harry's wrist, causing it to twinkle in its eerie blue glow.

 

~To Be Continued~


	15. Transformation, Part 1

_~Streets Lined With Prying Eyes~_

 

_[Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England; August 29st 1996, 7:34 AM]_

 

The following day began with a very quiet breakfast.  Narcissa and Draco clearly had questions about what had happened, but neither of them said a word and for Harry the whole thing was a bit uncomfortable. He really liked Narcissa, but it made him feel like a bit of a home wrecker to sit here by Lucius’ side at the same table with his ex-wife and their son.  Even knowing how she felt on the matter, he couldn’t even begin to try and comprehend how this all was for Draco.  The other boy hadn’t spoken a single word to Harry since he’d been brought here.  It seemed that he was more prone to keep avoiding Harry and the whole situation. It wouldn’t surprise Harry if they were keeping Draco on the fringes of what was going on, even though he believed Draco had just as much right to know as any of them. Draco was involved, whether either of them liked it or not.

 

Harry ate very little, his nerves keeping him from really feeling hungry, and Lucius seemed to notice as a hand brushed his hand that now rested in his lap under the table. He wasn’t sure if it made him more nervous or not… but he didn’t reject it either.

 

“I think today would be a perfect time for a trip to Diagon Alley.  Harry is still in need of the necessary school supplies, and I believe that Draco is still missing a few things he didn’t pick up when he went with Mrs. Zabini and her son,” Lucius said smoothly, effortlessly breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen on the room after the initial good mornings had been exchanged.

 

The need of school supplies wasn’t something Harry had even considered.  He’d only thought so far as wanting to return despite the obvious danger that would be there, and how he could convince Lucius to let him go back. Now that that had been settled rather easily the rest hadn’t really crossed his giddy mind.  The practical logical part of his brain had fled him until now… He had nothing that wasn’t given to him.  He still wore Lucius’ pajamas, which until now hadn’t really been a problem, but he doubted they’d be acceptable at Hogwarts.  He had no robes, books, nothing.  He also was in need of a wand, something else that had been stolen by the imposter, along with the money he’d need to purchase a new one.

 

“That’s a splendid idea,” Narcissa said, her smile honest and open as she looked at Lucius and Harry.  If she noticed his sudden paleness she chooses not to draw attention to it at that moment, which Harry is immensely grateful.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

“Lucius, I think something is bothering Harry,” Narcissa said, catching Lucius before he can follow after Harry who had fled the room as soon as breakfast had ended and everyone got up to ready themselves for the trip to Diagon Alley.

 

“Yes, dear Narcissa, I had picked up on that,” Lucius responded dryly, obviously displeased by being stopped when he had every intention of following after his boy. Narcissa frowned disapprovingly at him. “I’m sorry… I hadn’t…”

 

“My, this is a surprise. Lord Lucius Malfoy losing his composure and worrying over someone,” Narcissa’s frown slowly grew into a fond smile. When it looked like Lucius would speak at her words she drew her slim fingers up and placed them on his lips, silencing his potential denial.  “It makes me happy to see this side of you.  It’s wonderful seeing how much he affects you.  You’re changing, Lucius, and I think it’s for the better. You love that boy more than you could have ever loved me, and instead of envy I only feel an overwhelming sense of happiness.  I just want you to know that,” Narcissa said softly.

 

“Thank you,” Lucius said, eyes warmer than she’d ever seen them, as he removed her fingers and clasps them gently in his own hand.

 

“You love him,” she said, a statement really, his eyes saying as much.

 

“I have always loved him,” he responded softly, a faraway look coming to his eyes, as a small fond smile curves his lips.  That’s when it clicked for her.

 

“He’s Harry!? Your Harry, isn’t he!?”

 

Instead of answering her questions Lucius released her hand before regarding her with a soft smile, the type she had never seen on his face before, and she knew she was right. As he walked away from her, following after his Harry, she knew.  She didn’t know how it was possible, just that it was.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

“Narcissa worries about you,” Lucius said as he entered their room, surprising Harry who was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at his hands.

 

“Worries about me? Why?” his green eyes wide and wonderful, and Lucius couldn’t breathe for a second.  His heartbeat stilled in his chest for a moment, and all he could do was concentrate on those wide honest eyes.

 

“I wonder,” Lucius finally said moving into the room after closing the door behind him. He had already pieced together what it could be that is plaguing Harry.  Coming to kneel before the boy he took Harry’s hands in his own and looked into those lovely eyes before speaking.  “You know there is nothing for you to be worried about.  As I told your young Miss Granger, I am perfectly capable of taking care of you and providing what you may need.”  Harry looked surprised as Lucius spoke, and Lucius knew that he had been right.

 

“It’s not that… well it is… but… I just…  I don’t have any money now… I don’t have anything…” Harry began, eyes darting around the room and refusing to look at Lucius, but seemed to only fluster himself the more he tried to express his worries with words.  Lucius easily drew those eyes back to him by gently squeezing Harry’s hands in his own.

 

“As your mate it is my responsibility to provide for you, and I’d have it no other way. Even if you still had the Potter fortune, I’d still insist.  It is something I need to do for you.”  When it looked like Harry would protest Lucius leaned forward to kiss him silent. Drawing away, enjoying the dazed look in his boys eyes—and really he should stop thinking of him as a boy—he continues, “I want to do this for you.”  His words were earnest, and Harry accepted them with a nod before he leaned forward to find that smile that Lucius only held for him.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

_[Diagon Alley, London, England; August 29st 1996, 9:28 AM]_

 

The weather was perfect. The sun shone warmly overhead and a nice breeze danced along the cobbled streets under feet, winding and weaving through the collection of wizards and witches doing a bit of shopping. Despite how wonderful the weather was, Harry could feel a cold sweat collecting on the back of his neck. He felt more out of place now than the very first time he’d walked these stones with Hagrid.

 

Harry tried to ignore the eyes of curious people that followed them as they made their way to Madam Malkin’s, Lucius declaring that Harry couldn’t well run around in his clothing forever, and something more fitting should be their first priority. Harry still felt uncomfortable that Lucius would be paying for everything, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of everyone stopping to turn and watch them as they passed.

 

It was him, he was sure. They were staring at him, trying to figure out how someone like him would be in the presence of the immaculate trio the Malfoy’s made.  One would think he’d be used to all of this by now, but he most certainly wasn’t. He didn’t fit… how could he? It was more than just the pajamas, though nice and clearly expensive.  He couldn’t help feeling like the ‘odd ugly little duck’ and was more than worried that someone would recognize him as ‘The Boy Who Lived’ though no one approached them with such an accusation.

 

A warm hand settled on his lower back, as Lucius appeared beside him, a comforting presence, helping Harry settle a bit under the heavy gazes of strangers. His silver eyes were sharp as they passed, daring anyone to get to close, the overprotectiveness a little daunting but not entirely unwelcome.

 

~ LM/HP ~

 

Harry had never been one of expensive taste.  So he couldn’t help being at a loss as he found himself looking through the lush more pricey fabrics of Madam Malkin’s with Narcissa.  He missed Lucius’ presence at his side, his nerves now trying to get the better of him.  The older man had excused himself and Draco at the entrance of Malkin’s, wanting to get a bit of Draco’s shopping done while Harry was fitted with new robes, saying that Narcissa would be much better at helping Harry with such a task than himself. Really, Harry was happy to hear that Lucius wanted to take some time to spend with his son, whom Harry still didn’t know how he felt about this whole thing.  He didn’t know how much Draco knew, but he hoped they’d get on well… well, better than before, at least.  His distaste for the other boy had all but disappeared, their past rivalry seeming trivial now.

 

The shop was fairly empty; aside from Harry and Narcissa there was a young woman who’d introduced herself as Millie as they’d entered with a bright inviting smile. She and Narcissa had chatted happily about what Harry would be needing, school robes and the like, surprising Millie who had said that Harry looked too mature for a first year (which was so very obvious…) and that she didn’t recognize him as one of the usual Hogwarts students that came by ever year, causing Harry to tense and Narcissa to smile.  Narcissa introduced Harry as James, casting him a slight side-glance as if to gauge if it was all right. She had then proceeded to explain to Millie that he was a transfer from Beauxbatons, that he hadn’t been able to finish his sixth year there and would just be starting it over at Hogwarts, amazing Harry at how quick she was on her feet, because he doubted that the lie (well, not really a lie if you think about it) had been rehearsed. He chose to ask about that later.

 

Now alone in the back of the shop where the fitting would be done, he decided now was the best time as any to talk to the woman whose husband he’d quite literally stolen away… Something he still felt guilty over, although everyone else concerned seemed less than bothered by how things had developed.

 

“Narcissa, where did you get the idea to tell Millie what you did?  I couldn’t think of anything; my mind just went blank…”

 

“Well, it’s not really an idea now is it, nor a lie, wouldn’t you agree?  I just told her the truth.  You never finished your sixth year right?  And I wasn’t certain if you’d appreciate me calling you James or not, but really I couldn’t think of anything else.” Narcissa answered sweetly, looking Harry over as he stood on the fitting room stool as she held different fabrics up to him, deciding which looked best, for whatever fashion reason that Harry couldn’t even begin to fathom.

 

“I don’t mind, not really… But you know?” Harry asked in surprise, something he should just get used to feeling by now… As for being called James… his father… no brother’s name… He wasn’t sure how he felt. He knew he couldn’t, or well, shouldn’t go by Harry, but…

 

“Of course,” Narcissa responded, her smile beautiful and bright as the woman herself.

 

“How?” Harry asked, before adding, “Lucius?”  He’d let the name thing go the best he could for now…  Really, he didn’t think he could do James justice, but he just couldn’t think of any other name he would rather use.

 

“No, he didn’t have to say anything, really.  I could just tell, although it wasn’t until this morning that I was certain,” she confided, moving away to place the approved fabric on a chair while placing the others back on the cart that had wheeled them to the back.  “Lucius always got this look on his face when he’d talked about you in the past, and this morning it all seemed to fall into place. To be honest, I’m still confused as to how this is all possible, but I’m so happy for the both of you. To be reunited after so long, and for that love to be buried deep and hidden safely away till you could do something about it.  I’m a bit jealous; really, it’s all fairytale romantic.”

 

“It’s not like that…” Harry denied automatically, even though it kind of was. “There isn’t anything about this situation that deserves your jealousy.  It’s not romantic, and it’s definitely not a fairytale.”

 

It was at that moment that Millie returned her wand in hand.  “Ooo! I heard the words romantic and fairytale.  I wasn’t eavesdropping of course, but I do so love love stories!”

 

“Umm… it’s really not like that…” Harry tried to say, but Narcissa cut in.

 

“We were just talking about bonding, Millie.  James, Millie is also of our own, and she also just found her mate.  You’re to be married next week if I remember correctly.”

 

“How sweet of you to remember Mrs. Malfoy!  It’ll be next Friday. I’m so excited. He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met!” Millie gushed, cheeks pinking in her sheer happiness as she started Harry’s measurements.  “By ‘also’, you mean that James just meet his mate too!?  Oh, how exciting!”

 

“Umm…” Harry really didn’t know how to respond to that, but it seemed he didn’t have to as Millie kept talking.

 

“I met Edmond three months ago, and I knew the moment our eyes found each other that that was it. That that was the man I was made for. Did you get that feeling, James? Didn’t you just shudder all over and just know?” Millie giggled.

 

“You’ve known each other for three months and you’re getting married now?” Harry tried to keep the surprise out of his voice the best he could.  Did people actually get married so soon after meeting? Was that normal for avian couples, well mates?  He shouldn’t be so surprised, arranged marriage was still a pretty common practice in the wizarding world… or so he’d found…

 

“I know, what took so long, you’re probably wondering,” Millie giggled, pinning a bit of fabric before clicking her tongue in approval.  “We had to wait for Edmond’s seventeenth birthday.  It would have been sooner, but he wanted to wait till he was a legal adult in the eyes of the law, although Avian laws aren’t so strict about the age line.  Sixteen is a good age as any, legal age in all countries for our kind and all, but Edmond’s mum is a witch and doesn’t understand Avian culture as well as her husband probably wishes.”

 

“Oh… I see…” Harry said slowly, feeling a bit lightheaded.  Lucius had told Hermione he wouldn’t marry Harry until he graduated Hogwarts, even though he could do so now.  Avian law saw Harry as an adult, and that eased something inside of Harry that he tried to ignore every time he and Lucius were alone.  He wouldn’t admit to the feeling that maybe they were doing something wrong aloud, but the little voice that whispered that he shouldn’t kiss Lucius, that it was wrong, was silenced permanently.  Then again… Lucius was a proper gentlemen… he supposed, so of course he wouldn’t make passes on a minor… whether they were his mate or not…

 

“So you just found your mate, too!?  Oh how exciting!!” Millie all but squealed in girlish delight.  “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and assume it’s to young mister Malfoy?”

 

“Of course not!” Harry found himself saying a little too loudly, causing both ladies to look at him curiously, for two different reasons, and he felt a bit ashamed for such an outburst.  “I mean, Draco is well and fine… now… I suppose, but… just no…” Narcissa smiled in understanding, not offended in the least; she knew her son well enough, and Millie looked like Harry had just dropped the Guessing-Game-Gauntlet.

 

“Hmmm…” Her cute round little face scrunched in concentration as she tried to think of some other Avian that could be Harry’s more dominate mate.  She then proceeded to name off a bunch of men Harry has never heard of, and felt he should be insulted that she automatically assumed his mate would be male and that he was considered submissive but wasn’t.  In the time it took her to reach name twenty-three she had finished the measurements and was getting a bit exasperated.

 

“You’ll know soon enough,” Narcissa sing-songed as she helped Harry step down from the stool before pressing a nice black and silver robe into his hands to change into, instead of Lucius’ pajamas.  She explained as she ushered a pouting Millie through the curtains, back to the front of the shop leaving him alone (something he was grateful for; undressing before two ladies who would be no more bothered by his nudity than if he were just another woman was a bit to emasculating for him at the moment, and it effectively derailed the guess-his-mate-game) to dress in the new robes, which were a bit fancy for his liking.  For a fleeting moment he wondered if Lucius would let him get a few muggle clothes to wear under them… this robe felt to dressy, and Lucius and Severus wore pants with theirs, so there wasn’t much difference right?  Yeah, he didn’t think that argument would go over well…

 

~ To Be Continued ~


End file.
